


Living with Dragons

by Nomolosk



Category: Enchanted Forest Chronicles - Patricia Wrede, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - No Miraculous, F/M, The Kwamis are dragons, fairy tale tropes played straight, fairy tale tropes subverted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:00:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 36,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28163598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nomolosk/pseuds/Nomolosk
Summary: Stifled at home, Prince Adrien just wants to have an adventure. Accidentally captured instead of her mistress, Marinette Dupain-Cheng just wants to go home. But when you're living with dragons, things are bound to get interesting, and both of them might just end up finding something they like better.Set in the world of the Enchanted Forest Chronicles by Patricia C. Wrede.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Ivan Bruel/Mylène Haprèle, Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant, Luka Couffaine/Kagami Tsurugi
Comments: 257
Kudos: 124





	1. In Which Prince Adrien Becomes a Princess

**Author's Note:**

> I loved The Enchanged Forest Chronicles as a child. I loved the tone of the books, how the people in them faced fairy tale dangers and met them with common sense and a certain amount of irritation- that all of this was getting in the way of their own plans for their lives.
> 
> This is therefore meant to be a tribute to both fandoms- I love the characters from Miraculous Ladybug, and couldn't resist placing them in this other setting that I also love. While you can expect references to events that happened in the books, it's not necessary to read the books to understand this story (though I highly recommend that you do!) 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it as much I'm enjoying writing it!

Prince Adrien was not allowed to pout. Or to argue. He certainly wasn’t allowed to storm out of the room in disgust. Apparently, none of those things were “princely.” Or so he was often told. Right now, he didn’t much care about what was “princely,” but unfortunately he was a Prince and people had expectations of Princes. The upshot of which was that he merely bowed politely and excused himself from the room, walking rapidly enough that he gave the impression that he was on a mission and shouldn’t be accosted, but not quickly enough to make the always observant servants or courtiers he passed worry about his mental state.

Eventually he made it all the way to his mother’s secluded garden- the one small spot among the carefully ordered and structured formal gardens that was allowed to run riot with color and “weeds.” There was a fountain in the midst of it with a stone bench for visitors to view the sparkling drops as they fell. It was often a retreat for him- a place of calm and peace amidst his busy life- but today he felt too much like the garden itself. 

It was true that it was one part of the palace grounds that was allowed to grow as it would- the gardeners never touched it, though Adrien had himself pruned back some things here or there over the years. Yet it was so small. So much life in it, all contained in a tiny little space… it was being stifled. Overshadowed and disregarded, crammed in and… _contained._

The King’s latest decree was only one more in a long list of decrees Adrien had chafed at through his life, yet it was something he had more than half expected of latter years. He was to marry.

More specifically, he was to choose a bride from among the carefully selected Princesses his father had invited to a series of royal balls, to be held over the course of one month. He supposed it was _something_ that King Gabriel wasn’t outright choosing a bride for him… but really the fact that Adrien would be allowed to choose his bride was a polite fiction, since all the ladies attending the balls would be carefully researched and vetted, first by his father’s assistant, and then by King Gabriel himself. Anyone with even a hint of improper behavior- or really anything interesting about her- would simply not be issued an invitation.

When he was younger, Adrien had really thought that his life would be different. Travelers would come to court; entertainers, visiting nobles, even the odd commoner or two looking for redress or alleviation of their lot. Adrien had overheard or been outright told, stories of other Princes- never in his regular studies, but… These Princes went on quests to slay dragons and rescue their Princesses, or did great deeds, like fetching water from the Spring of Healing, retrieving golden apples or other enchanted fruits… basically, aiding the people in grand, heroic ways, ways that _meant_ something. The message a younger Adrien received was that these Princes did _important things_ , and that he, too, could one day accomplish great things. He had thrown himself into his studies, mindful of his tutors’ belief that no knowledge was ever wasted.

Yet as he grew older, he began to suspect that the King had something very different in mind for him. He was only taught the rudiments of the sword, for example, and nothing at all about defensive spell-casting, or what substances could be relied on to disenchant most anything or anyone. When he asked for more training, he was given military strategists and lessons on how to delegate.

All his geography was focused on the interior of the Kingdom of Agrestia, with only the barest idea of what lay outside it beyond names of the countries and capitals. He did learn an excessive amount about the ruling families of those Kingdoms and their extended bloodlines.

All of this eventually made him worry that his father, King Gabriel, did not intend for Adrien to ever leave Agrestia. Eventually, he had brought up the subject at a private dinner with the King, since he had long since learned not to bring up ticklish subjects (like his own plans for his life) in polite company. The result of that conversation was that Prince Adrien suddenly became too busy to eat with the court regularly, his schedule denying him much time for anything except study and sleep, and King Gabriel instituted a policy of no entertainments beyond dull dinners and the occasional stuffy ball where the attendees were either restricted to people Adrien already knew- but certainly not friends- or Adrien would simply be given some other task to perform during the ball. Apparently, having access to news of the outside world and the doings of people of his own station had given Adrien “undesirable notions.” 

A Prince’s behavior, according to his father, was always subject to the desires and expectations of others, in descending order, with the wishes of his father the King at the top, and his own wishes at the bottom of a very long list of other people. King Gabriel had very firm views on what he called the “attention seeking antics” other Princes “indulged in,” no doubt because their own fathers had not been firm enough in their rearing. He also had the fixed belief that the proper running of a Kingdom precluded unforeseen events like rampaging giants, incursions by evil magicians, the depredations of dragons, plagues (magical or otherwise), and other unpleasant, but exciting, events.

Adrien had had to concede the point, for Agrestia had indeed been spared anything of that nature since before his great-great-great-grandfather’s reign, and none of Agrestia’s princes had ever gone adventuring since that time, devoting themselves instead to diplomacy, politics, sound economic theory, and restricted immigration. He supposed it was all well and good for the populace, but it was certainly dull work.

And now even his choice of bride was to be restricted. Apparently, despite taking the greatest care to live up to his father’s expectations, King Gabriel still felt Adrin was “too fanciful” and “had too many unrealistic notions about the married state” to be trusted to pick a suitable eventual Queen of Agrestia. 

That, of course, was one straw too many, and had sent Adrien down here to his mother’s garden. His frustration was enough to make anyone rage at the unfairness of it all, but his only outward expression of it was a very long-suffering sigh.

“Well, that was a long-suffering sigh if I ever heard one,” a deep, croaky voice said. “And I should know- I took a course on sighs.”

“What, really?” Adrien asked, then added, “And a very good day to you.”

He looked at the frog that had jumped up onto the rim of the fountain’s bowl. Despite his father’s restrictive schedule for him, he had found some secret allies among the servants who would slip him news from the outer world, so he was very familiar with at least the concepts of Wise Animals, Guardian Animals, and Helpful Animals. No doubt this was one of those, and it never did to be surprised at their appearance. They could be easily offended.

“Oh yeah,” the frog said, “My cousin Vinny sent me a correspondence course. I’ve never met him, but his mom is a sister of my mom’s aunt’s best friend, and they’ve been classed as “Helpful” over in Linderwall for generations now. There’s certain perks that come with that, ya know? Connections.” The frog eyed a dragonfly that was admiring itself in the reflection of the water, then snapped it into its mouth faster than Adrien could blink. 

“Anyway,” it said, around a mouthful of dragonfly, “I’ve been lookin’ to get into the business for a while, so that’s why Vinny sent it. Hell of a thing to try and write everything out when ya live in a fountain, but ya gotta do whatcha gotta do, ya know what I mean? Ya gotta know what kinda sighs to listen for, so ya know what kinda advice to give.”

Adrien nodded slowly. “That’s very sensible. Congratulations on completing your course.”

The frog tilted it’s head and licked an eye. “Thanks. So what’s yer problem? Ya look like a Prince, what with the coronet and all… usually Princes don’t need help until they’re already in trouble, if ya know what I mean.”

Adrien sighed again. “That’s just it. My problem is that my father won’t let me live my own life. I would love nothing more than for our acquaintance to have begun in some bog I had gotten myself mired in, either through my own stupidity or by enemy action or even trickery! A quest, a mission… anything with a bit of spice to it! I would even welcome trying to negotiate for my own life with a giant! But instead I find myself looking forward to a dull, uninteresting existence as a mere placeholder with a complacent and suitable wife who will bear me two and a half children-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” the frog interrupted. “Two and a _half_ kids? How’s that supposed to work?”

“It’s the statistical average of childbirths per family in Agrestia,” Adrien replied, getting up to start pacing in front of the bench. “Anyway, eventually, the King will die of natural causes, but not until after a prolonged, but not terribly offensive illness, during which I will gradually take over the reigns of government so that by the time he actually dies, I will be settled into my new role and life will continue much as it has before.” 

Adrien stopped and actually flung his hands in the air in frustration. “Except, it won’t really be a _life_ at all, just… _passing time_ until it’s my turn to die so my son can take the throne.”

“Huh,” the frog intoned. “Ya know, that sounds a lot more like a _Princess_ problem than a Prince problem. Are ya sure you’re a Prince?”

Adrien folded his arms and chuckled bitterly. “Oh, yes. I am most definitely a Prince. I’m just not the type that’s allowed to actually _do_ anything.”

The frog narrowed its eyes for a moment before saying, “Still, what you got is really more of a Princess problem- at least from what I read. So… do ya maybe want a Princess solution?”

Adrien raised his eyebrows. “Well… I’m not sure. I know a little about the kinds of scrapes Princesses usually find themselves in, and getting locked into a tower would be just as isolating as what my life has been to date. Plus, I really don’t want to run afoul of any witches, sorceresses, or evil enchantresses. I feel confident I could handle a giant, or even a tower with no doors and only one window, but not those.”

“Well, there’s this thing” the frog said, trailing off. “It’s _kinda_ like a giant, and it would get you outta here for a long time… ya might even learn some useful things if ya pay attention! Mind, it ain’t precisely the _usual_ arrangement, but I think I know just who to send you to for help.”

“I am certainly willing to listen to advice,” Adrien said, sitting back down on the bench and leaning forward attentively.

\----

Late that evening, Prince Adrien found himself outside the door of a very dilapidated and tumble-down shack, feeling foolish. He had followed the frog’s directions precisely, not even turning aside when he passed the tourney field with the crier calling out for the next participant. However much he had longed to participate in a tourney, he knew he didn’t have the training, and besides, ignoring the guidance of a Helpful Animal never turned out well.

So he took a deep breath, knocked three times on the door, snapped his fingers, opened it, and stepped through.

He found himself, not in the middle of a dirty hovel, but in a large cavern lit by torches that was currently occupied by an extremely large, entirely black dragon that was reading a book. The dragon shifted, marked its place with a large eagle feather, then turned its- his, by the two horns- head to consider this unexpected arrival.

“Well, well, well,” he said. “What do we have here?”

The dragon’s smile revealed far too many razor sharp teeth. Prince Adrien gulped, but intoned the words the frog had told him to say. Of course, when the frog had told him what to say, it hadn’t said anything about _dragons._

“Greetings. I apologize for my precipitate arrival and wish you well in all your endeavors.” 

Adrien gulped again, thinking how one of those endeavors might very shortly be ‘successfully digesting whiny Prince’ and how he didn’t really wish the dragon well if that should happen to become the case… but he said nothing about that.

“Do you,” the dragon said, setting the book aside entirely. “Well, at least you’re polite enough to apologize after barging in here on a spell that’s so old I can _smell_ the magic beginning to unravel. It’s a wonder it actually brought you here! By the stink of it, I’d say you’re lucky it worked at all, and didn’t leave you stranded somewhere… unpleasant.”

Adrien simply bowed. “As to that, I was given advice by a Helpful Animal and thought it best to follow it.”

“Hmmm,” the dragon said, lifting a claw to prop up it’s chin. “And just what help did you require?”

Adrien took a deep breath. “As you see, I am a Prince. I know that, traditionally, Princes are meant to go out and get themselves into scrapes and hopefully accomplish something useful in the process- like rescuing Princesses and Damsels in Distress, lifting curses and enchantments, that sort of thing. Only my father has it fixed in his mind that all of that is rubbish and had kept me at home.”

“He seems to have finally failed,” the dragon said.

Adrien felt himself flushing and hoped the torchlight was too dim for the dragon to notice. “I realize that- as a Prince, you probably expected me to ignore my father’s wishes and just leave, but…” he trailed off, miserably. The more he thought of it, the more his own lack of defiance seemed cowardly, rather than well-mannered. 

“My father wants what is best for the Kingdom, and I want that, too. Perhaps it just took the prospect of selecting a ‘suitable’ bride from among ladies chosen by him to make me see that the Kingdom would be better off without _me._ I have a duty, I know,” he said. “I am the Heir, but I have a cousin on my mother’s side whom I have met, who seems like a carbon-copy of my father the King in both temperament and personality. I think he would actually make a better Crown Prince than I would! My point being… I wish to take up residence with a dragon.”

The moment he said it, Adrien realized it was true. However unexpected, this was what he wanted. Excitement, even a certain sense of danger in everyday life… not knowing what was coming next every hour of every day.

  
  
  


“Let me get this straight,” said the black dragon, shifting so that his scales shimmered faintly green in the torchlight. “You’re a Prince, but instead of rescuing a Princess, you want to become a dragon’s Princess.”

“Yes- well, no. I would be a dragon’s _Prince_ , because I am, well, a Prince.”

The dragon waved that away. “And I’m the Queen of the Dragons- it has nothing to do with gender. ‘Princess’ isn’t just a birthright, it’s also a job title. A dragon’s Princess cooks, cleans, keeps the treasure in order, and generally makes herself useful. She also lends a certain cachet to the dragon who keeps her, but it’s minor- rather like having one particular breed of dog. It’s nice, but you don’t have to have one.”

“Oh, I… see.” Adrien blinked, rather taken aback. In all the stories he’d heard, dragons made off with Princesses so frequently that everyone assumed having one must mean a great deal to a dragon. He was about to ask if the dragon could suggest an alternative, or perhaps just tell him the way out so he could go seek other adventures, when the dragon started chuckling.

“You know what? I like the notion! I think I’ll do it. I’m the Queen of the Dragons, I can do what I want! Besides, you’re the only Prince I’ve ever met or heard of who seems alright with shirking a little responsibility- I think that deserves some reward. I always thought you lot could stand to relax a little...” The dragon grinned, and a sudden chill went down Adrien’s spine. 

“I cannot wait to see the look on Wayzz’ face…” the dragon continued, deep rumbling chuckles filling the cavern with slightly menacing echoes.

“Thank you exceedingly for your generous offer, your majesty,” Adrien said with another bow, despite sudden misgivings.

The dragon snorted, sending slightly smokey air wafting in Adrien’s direction. “Sure. You can call me Plagg. And what shall I call you? Princey?”

“Prince Adrien of Agrestia,” Adrien answered, “but you can drop the Prince, if you like.”

“Well, pick up the book and let’s get going, Adrien. Do you know anything about cheese?” Plagg said, getting up and turning toward the entrance of a long black tunnel. Adrien grinned broadly, avoided getting hit by Plagg’s tail, and hurried to snatch up the book and catch up with his new master.

“I'm afraid I don't know much about cheese. If you don’t mind my asking, what exactly does a Queen of the Dragons do…?”


	2. In Which A Dragon Captures the Wrong Princess, Regrets Are Had, and the King of the Dragons Interferes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's... in the title.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng bowed low to the palace official, her basket of supplies slung from her arm.

“The Princess called for a seamstress, honored one. I came as soon as soon as I heard.”

The palace official- an old woman whom everyone knew was in charge of keeping unnecessary individuals away from the Princess- regarded her suspiciously before consulting a list.

“The Princess did request a seamstress. What is your name girl?”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, if it pleases you.” Her father had named her at birth, and though her mother’s family had urged them to give her a Chinese name as well, Marinette preferred to use the one her jolly outlander father had gifted her.

The woman checked her list again. Marinette hid a smile, as it wouldn’t do her any good to seem arrogant, but she knew the list of favored seamstresses was a short one, and her name was at the top of it. Not for nothing had her parents sent her to train with cousins in China. And now she was here- designing and executing splendid garments for no less a personage than Princess Kagami herself.

“Very well. The Princess is meditating in the water garden, but she has left orders to send you to her as soon as you arrived.”

Marinette bowed low again. “I am at the command of my mistress.”

The woman nodded sharply. “Go through, and be sure you honor the Princess in your work.”

Marinette bowed once more, and scurried by. Once past the gatekeeper, she skirted the edges of the palace, quickly passing through the sculpture garden, the rock garden, and part of the orchard before coming upon the water garden, which featured many small fountains and water features centered around a large koi pond in the middle of it. Her steps made almost no noise on the sanded paths, and soon she could hear the plaintive notes of a biwa. Her steps slowed. Everyone knew (secretly, of course) about the Princess’ regard for the new musician that had come to the court from a far country. Marinette had only met him once, but she could understand the Princess’ attraction. Luka had an almost mesmerizing effect, and if he weren’t so obviously aware of his own station, she might have worried about his intentions.

She would have stopped behind a rock wall down which water dripped and allowed them their privacy had not the Princess herself come suddenly around the bend, parasol in hand and hair ornaments swaying delicately with her movements. Marinette immediately prostrated herself, though careful to tuck her basket under her so the contents did not spill. 

Princess Kagami’s shoes stopped in front of her. “You may rise,” she said, in that expressionless way of hers.

Marinette got up and bowed her head. “I am the seamstress you requested, your highness. I am yours to command.”

“Follow, then,” the Princess said, and Marinette moved out of the way as Kagami moved forward, confident that her path was already clear. Marinette also let Luka pass before falling in behind him. They came to a stone seat and Kagami sank down onto it gracefully. Luka took up a post at the base of a tree just far enough away to deny it’s shade to the bench, while Marinette knelt on the path in front of the Princess. The Princess, meanwhile, got straight to the point.

“I require bridal raiment. It must combine the symbols of both houses in a harmonious way.”

“Of course, your highness. May I enquire as to what symbols?”

For a while they discussed color and embroidery, with Marinette delicately putting forth her own suggestions, and the Princess either agreeing to or overriding those suggestions. The sun climbed higher in the sky, and it seemed to Marinette that Kagami seemed to grow a little restless. She did not outwardly appear as anything but calm, but Luka’s melodies had shifted from plaintive to something like what Marinette would expect to hear at a play right before the villain appeared. Princess Kagami’s eyes, moreover, kept scanning the sky, and she started agreeing to everything Marinette suggested in a very concerning manner.

It was not Marinette’s place to inquire as the Princess’ state of mind, though, so all she could do was try to make the best possible suggestions so her mistress didn’t suffer for her absentmindedness. She had just finished putting the sample silks and sketches of embroidery motifs back in her basket when she spotted a large shadow streaking over the ground- straight for the Princess! Without thinking, Marinette surged up just as the shadow passed over them, knocking Kagami off the bench just as a massive claw closed around her torso.

Marinette froze as the claw pulled her off the ground and into the sky, her screams dying in her throat. A swift glance upward told her what it was that had - it was a dragon. A dragon! Below and swiftly falling behind, Marinette saw Princess Kagami scramble to her feet, throwing up an arm as if to command her to return at once. Then she and Luka were hidden behind screening trees and all Marinette could see was the swiftly passing palace roof.

She let out a hysterical giggle- she, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, royal seamstress, had just saved Princess Kagami from capture by a  _ dragon! _ For a moment she was excited. Surely the Empress would reward her family handsomely for this… then reality caught back up with her.

She’d just been captured by a  _ dragon _ .  _ She _ , and not Princess Kagami, whose status would have afforded her some protection against the beast. Dragons didn’t eat Princesses, everyone knew that… but there was no telling what they would do to a mere seamstress.

Marinette clutched frantically at the clawed foot grasping her, half trying to free herself, half holding on for dear life. They were still over the city that surrounded the palace, and fairly low. If she could get free, a fall might break bones, but probably not kill her, especially if she landed on a roof and not the farther distance to the ground itself.

But then the dragon beat its wings more powerfully and the ground dropped away as they left the city behind, soaring up and over the bordering hills. She involuntarily looked down but quickly snatched her gaze back up to the horizon as the sea spread out below them. Panic twisted in her belly.

How was she ever going to get home?

\----

Marinette had assumed the dragon lived fairly close to the edge of the mainland, but in fact their flight took her far in-land, leaving the coast- and anything familiar to Marinette- far behind. Far enough that it was full night before a sudden drop in her stomach told her that the dragon was finally coming down. In a way it was a blessing, because there was no moon tonight, and the light of the stars wasn’t bright enough to give Marinette much more than an impression of the countryside, so she couldn’t see it rush up at them as the dragon descended. Still, she tensed, and closed her eyes for the last few meters before the dragon touched down with a thunder of wing beats. 

Marinette was set gently on her feet, and managed to keep them when the supporting claw was removed, despite her wobbly legs and rebelling stomach.

“Come along,” the dragon said, in an arrogant tone. “It’s late and I’m tired. We can get acquainted in the morning.”

Marinette obeyed, heart pounding. Should she say something now, or wait until the morning? She was not eager to find out what the dragon would think about kidnapping the wrong girl… fear kept her silent as the dragon summoned a ball of light and led the way into a small series of caves. To Marinette’s surprise, it felt cozy, rather than cold and damp. There was a small cave with a human-sized bed and dresser just off a larger cavern that had many and various things cluttered around the edges of it. 

“You can sleep here. I’ll wake you in the morning to inform you of your new duties,” the dragon said again, scarcely glancing at her before it turned and went through another dark opening, taking the ball of light with it. Marinette stumbled through the dark, barking her shins on the edge of the bed. She managed to fumble out the chamberpot under it and gratefully relieved herself in it before fastening the lid on. Her stomach growled, but as she had no food, and no idea where to get any, she sternly told it to hush. She didn’t want to get any more bruises trying to search for a night dress in the pitch black of the cave, so she simply patted around on the bed until she found the edge of the blanket, and pulled it back. 

When Marinette laid down, she honestly thought she wouldn’t be able to sleep at all, but before she knew it, there was faint light coming in through the open door of her cave-room, and loud snorts were echoing around the larger cavern. For a moment she didn’t know where she was- then everything came rushing back and she was suddenly wide awake.

“Princess! Come out here!” came a loud shout, and Marinette jumped. She’d always had a hard time waking up, but there was no way she was going to ignore that peremptory command.

She scurried out into the larger chamber and took her first, tentative look at her captor, bracing herself for the inevitable. The dragon in front of her was large, but its shoulder was only just higher than Marinette’s head. It had greyish blue scales and three horns on its head, and its wings were neatly folded over the back, with the tail curling around in front.

“Ah, good. Now, I have a list of…” The dragon trailed off, no doubt taking in Marinette’s common clothing and decided lack of hair ornaments, not to mention her subservient demeanor. A dangerous growl started building as Marinette cringed. “You are not the Princess I was aiming for,” the dragon ground out.

“Please forgive me, I acted without thinking. It was an accident.” Marinette said, trembling.

“How did this happen?!” the dragon roared and Marinette spun away from a sudden spurt of fire. Heart hammering, she looked wildly around for something to put between herself and the angry dragon. At the same time, her own anger surged up, burning away some of the fear. This wasn’t her fault!

Looking around, she considered her options. The dragon was breathing heavily, little flames flickering around its mouth, and there didn’t seem to be anything in the cave that would make a good shield. The dragon stood between her and the sunlight coming in from outside, so she dismissed that possibility. There was no way she could dart past the dragon without getting caught or burned. On the other hand, perhaps she could lose the angry dragon farther into the cave system? 

Marinette ran toward a large dark opening at the back of the cave, hoping it led to a tunnel or other caves, and wasn’t a dead end. Perhaps it was foolish to run into the dark without a light, but perhaps the dragon would rush by her in the dark and she could then escape back the way she’d come.

It was pitch black in the tunnel, and Marinette tried to stay near the wall and not make too much noise. Unfortunately the dragon was close behind her, still flaming. Marinette scrambled forward, feeling the heat of the flames on her back, but at least it illuminated the tunnel immediately in front of her.

“ _ Get back here! _ How dare you interfere!” the dragon roared, nearly deafening Marinette with the echoes. “All that time- wasted! A  _ whole day _ of flying, and nothing to show for it! I’ll tear you into pieces and eat you for breakfast!”

Marinette shrieked despite herself and raced away from the angry dragon. She stumbled and lurched across the unfamiliar, slightly uneven surface, but she managed to stay ahead of it until she ran smack into something solid that she could have sworn wasn’t there a moment ago. Pain bloomed in her nose, but Marinette could tell it wasn’t a serious injury.

She stumbled back, just in time to see another flame spurt illuminate a  _ second _ dragon, that had apparently come out of another little set of caves to Marinette’s right. Her pounding heart redoubled its pace. Now there were  _ two _ of them!

“Good morning, Kaalki!” the dragon in front of her said cheerfully. “Your new Princess already trying to escape?”

Marinette tried to dash around the new dragon, but it reached out a forearm and caught her neatly.

“Let me go!” Marinette cried, fighting to get free. “It’s going to eat me!”

“What’s that?”

“Let her go, Mullo,” the original dragon growled threateningly. “I’m going to hunt her down and eat her for breakfast!”

“Oh, she can’t be that bad,” the dragon called Mullo commented. “Besides, didn’t you just get back with her last night? Give the poor girl a chance! If she doesn’t fall in line, you can always get rid of her later.”

The angry dragon- Kaalki?- just roared again for answer.

“Now really, you’re being unreasonable,” Mullo said, pulling Marinette behind it. A large grey-scaled head with two pinkish horns bent around to peer at Marinette. “I’m terribly sorry about this. Of course, you were foolish to provoke her so soon, but this kind of behavior…” the dragon trailed off, disapproval evident. Marinette gaped at it.

“Give her  _ back!” _ Kaalki roared again.

“Now, you can’t just go around kidnapping Princesses and then eating them out of hand, Kaalki,” Mullo reasoned. “You’ll give all of us a bad reputation!”

“She’s  _ not _ a Princess,” Kaalki hissed.

Marinette shivered, still firmly clasped in the dragon Mullo’s claw.

“Not a... are you sure?” Mullo asked, peering back down at Marinette again.

“Not a Princess,” Marinette gasped, pushing futilely at the dragon’s claw. “Mistake!”

The light was uncertain, still only dimly illuminated by the dragon Kaalki’s flame, but she thought the dragon Mullo looked shocked and surprised. Then, faintly amused.

“Really? Well, that’s a different matter then,” Mullo said dismissively, and Marinette felt her heart sink, even as her panic redoubled. 

The flames died down a little as Kaalki apparently started regaining control of its temper. “So you’ll give her back?”

“Certainly not!” Mullo said, cheerfully. “This is a matter for the King!”

\----

The King of the Dragons, Marinette soon discovered, was a  _ very _ large, three horned dragon with predominantly red scales, though there were odd patches of black scales on its forehead and where the neck met the head on both sides. It wore a black iron crown, and lounged on a raised level at the back of a cavern so large it could have swallowed up Marinette’s own small town and still had room for more. Which made sense, since this was supposed to be an audience chamber for  _ dragons. _

It made Marinette feel very, very small.

The Dragon King peered down at her briefly, then looked back at the two dragons behind her. 

“What’s all this about?” the Dragon King said in the deep booming voice that all dragons appeared to share. “If you’re having trouble with your Princess, that’s something to resolve privately.”

“I agree completely, your majesty,” Kaalki said, triumph in its- her?- tone.

“Normally I would too,” said Mullo, “but your majesty, there is a complication.”

“A complication?”

“Indeed. This girl is not a Princess,” Mullo stated. “Kaalki brought her back last night and didn’t bother to discover this minor oversight until this morning. The poor girl was running for her life when I went out into the passage to see what all the roaring was about.”

“It was a long trip!” Kaalki spoke up, nettled. “I wanted someone exotic, and the Princess I was targeting lives half a day’s flight away! I had to cross part of the ocean! So excuse me for being a little  _ tired _ when I got back.”

The King of the Dragons maintained a calm expression, but Marinette thought she saw something almost like amusement gleam briefly in its eyes.

“That kind of trip would tire anyone out,” the King agreed, solemnly. “That still does not explain this… mixup.” 

“Well,  _ I _ don’t know!” Kaalki complained. “The Princess was right where she should be, out in the open with no guards around. I came in low and snatched her up- or what I  _ thought _ was her- and left before anyone could even begin to scramble for a weapon. And then when I wake up this morning, this… this…  _ commoner _ is what I’m met with instead of the Princess I desired!”

“I can see why that would distress you,” The King said. Then its eyes shifted down to Marinette again. “Perhaps the human can shed more light on the matter?”

At a nudge from one of the dragons- probably Mullo- Marinette jerked into a low bow. “Your majesty, I do apologize, but it all happened so fast…! I was in the garden with my mistress Princess Kagami yesterday, and I saw a large shadow rushing over the lawn and I acted without thinking. I shoved my mistress out of the way, but I didn’t have time to move myself…” Marinette shrugged helplessly. “I assure you, I did not intend to impersonate my mistress, but surely you can see there was nothing I could have done to prevent it.”

The King of Dragons smiled at her, revealing a row of teeth as long as Marinette’s hand that were not at all reassuring.

“What an unfortunate mischance,” the King said, and this time Marinette was positive it was amused. “We now find ourselves in a quandary. You may not know this, but we dragons take Princesses as a minor mark of status- rather like your own nobility insisting on keeping pampered lapdogs, in fact. One does not really  _ need _ it, and it does not diminish one’s status  _ not _ to have it, but to have the  _ wrong kind… _ ”

Marinette flushed at the implied insult and replied rather hotly, “Neither I, nor my parents, have anything to be ashamed of! My parents bake the best breads and delicacies in the kingdom, and I am a highly skilled seamstress! We can’t all be royal, after all- someone has to bake the bread and sew the clothes... and it’s not like I asked to be kidnapped! Your majesty,” she added, suddenly realizing what she’d just said, and in what tone of voice.

For a moment she was sure she’d just sealed her fate, but then the King of Dragons started rumbling. When nothing further happened, Marinette realized it was  _ chuckling. _

“You may not have come back with a Princess, Kaalki,” The King said, “but it’s just possible you found something of more worth. Are you sure you won’t reconsider keeping her?”

“Never! I would not so demean myself,” Kaalki answered, calling up another wave of resentment in Marinette.

“Your loss, I suppose. I shall assign her to someone else, and-”

“But I’m not a Princess!” Marinette blurted out. Then her eyes widened and she slapped a hand over her betraying mouth.

“And what is ‘Princess’ but a job title?” The King said, making Marinette’s jaw drop. “Among humans, things like birth matter a great deal more than among dragon-kind. I can assure you, a dragon’s Princess has tasks that don’t differ much from those of the average peasant. In fact,  _ you _ may fill the role much better than someone who was raised in a palace.”

Marinette had no idea how to respond to that. “But I want to go home!” she blurted out again. “My parents will be so worried, and…” she trailed off. The King regarded her steadily for a moment, then shifted so that its head was more on her level.

“I understand that,” it said, surprisingly gentle. “Yet we dragons capture Princesses all the time, mostly against their wills, and I have to think about what would happen if I ordered someone to take you home. Word would get out, and then we would have Princesses constantly petitioning to be set free, instead of relying on the time-honored method of waiting for someone to rescue them, and quite frankly, I don’t have the time. Yet I can’t simply let Kaalki eat you, either. You are not a knight or a Prince, meeting her in battle, and eating humans out of hand would also set a bad precedent. Was it foolish of you to try and save your mistress? Perhaps. But I don’t believe you deserve to die because of it- especially since Kaalki’s trip wasn’t a raid in the normal sense. Now,” the King continued, sitting back up and addressing the room at large. “Is there anyone here who wants this girl? From what I can see, I’d say whoever gets her would have a bargain.”

Marinette hardly heard the resulting susurrus of shifting scales and low (for dragons) whispers that echoed through the chamber. She was still shaken by her capture, her near death experience, and now the strange mix of sympathy and practicality demonstrated by the King of these fearsome beasts.

In the end, she was sent to stand in a corner near the ledge the King reclined on until it was done holding court, then numbly followed when one of the dragons told her to come along. It wasn’t until she was entering what appeared to be a rather larger system of caves that she realized she was following the  _ King. _

Marinette stopped short. The King did not stop, nor did the dragon appear to notice that she had, so after a moment she hurried to catch back up. The dragon gave her a tour, including the main treasure caves and ending with her own set of rooms.

“Rooms?” Marinette asked. It was true that her parents had cleaned out the attic of their bakery for her to use as a bedroom, but it was small. She’d never dreamed of having more than one to herself- at least as long as she was still single. She peeked in to see that it wasn’t all bare rock, as in Kaalki’s cave, but that a wooden floor had been laid and hangings brightened and softened the walls at the same time. The kitchen seemed to be the central room, and she could see two more openings that had actually had doors fit into them which must be the bedroom and bathing room. 

“Yes, the King’s Princess merits at least three- bedroom, kitchen, and bathing room.”

“I’m not a Princess,” Marinette stubbornly repeated.

The King looked back at her. “Well, if you prefer the title of Chief Cook and Librarian, that’s also available. It’s traditional, actually, so there’s that.”

“That suits me much better,” Marinette said, feeling relieved. If she had to stay here, the last thing she wanted was for the Princesses of other dragons to feel slighted or that she was acting above her station. “Um, your majesty? What exactly do you want me to do? Because I warn you,” she suddenly said, some of her natural fight coming back. “I plan to escape and make my way home!”

The dragon chuckled. “Most Princesses do. Unfortunately, most of them either aren’t smart enough, or foresighted enough, to prepare for their escape, and so most of them are recaptured fairly quickly. The ones that don’t run off are usually rescued by someone or other within a year or two.”

Marinette blinked, then started thinking out loud. “Well, no Prince or Knight would come for  _ me _ , so I suppose I should start learning the lay of the land around here… Do you have any current maps?” She remembered a large library cave.

“Several,” the King said, still amused. “Feel free to look around. It’s part of your job to keep things in order, and I don’t mind if you read my books. Now, it’s almost dinner time, and usually that would be your job, but you just got here so tonight I’ll eat what my dragon cooks have prepared. Most of the time, dinner is me and one or two other dragons who have business to discuss, but sometimes the Queen will host a dinner and then I’ll eat there, of course. Go make yourself comfortable in your room for now- there’s a magic wardrobe in there that will supply anything you need in the way of clothing, and the kitchen is well stocked with supplies. You’ll hear a bell ring when I’m through eating, and I’ll meet you out here.”

Marinette started to nod, then frowned. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“You amuse me, and I’m curious about you,” The King of the Dragons said, smiling that unsettling smile again. 

“But why?” Marinette genuinely wanted to know.

“You are decidedly unlike any Princess I have ever met, and yet you are remarkably similar to the first Princess to attain the title of Chief Cook and Librarian- that was nearly two centuries ago, and of course she’s dead now, but King Kazul remained quite good friends with her for the rest of her life. I never met her of course- I wasn’t even living in the Mountains of Morning at the time- but Princess Cimorene’s legacy and example live on.”

Marinette stared, trying to decide if that was a compliment or a warning. 

“Go on and rest a little,” the dragon urged, making a shooing motion with her claw. “I’ll tell you all about your duties after dinner.” Not waiting to see if she would obey, the large red dragon lumbered off, presumably to her own chamber. Marinette waited until it was out of sight, then backed into her own quarters and looked around with interest.

“Well,” she said to herself, “you’re living with dragons now, Marinette, and likely to be here until you can figure out a way home.” She took a deep breath. “Time to make the best of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters probably won't all be this long, I just wanted to get Marinette's introduction out of the way.


	3. In Which the Queen gets a visitor, and Prince Noir is born

Adrien settled into his new home in record time. It was very different, of course, what with living in a cave and all, but they were actually quite comfortable caves, if a bit on the large side. Still, considering that they housed dragons, he supposed that was only to be expected. Plagg had his own set of caves in what appeared to be a vast warren deep in the Mountains of Morning. One of those was twice the size of the one he had appeared in. That one, Plagg said, was for formal banquets. 

As Queen of the Dragons, it was his job to host at least one formal banquet a month. He’d given Adrien a significant look as he said this, and Adrien thanked his lucky stars that he’d paid attention in his etiquette lessons, although he was sure there would be some differences between dragon etiquette and Agrestian etiquette. Fortunately, Plagg had a library, though it was not in very good order, so Adrien expected he could probably find some information there.

The Queen’s quarters also had three smallish caves devoted to treasure, although one was filled with cheeses in various stages of ripeness. Adrien had had to hold his breath when he was shown that one- apparently, the smellier the cheese, the better, according to Plagg. He’d taken several deep whiffs in evident pleasure as soon as the door was cracked, then picked several gargantuan wheels off the shelves to sniff them- that was how he could tell if they were ripe enough to eat, he said. Adrien kept his own opinion- which was that shutting someone into that cheese room would be worse than any torture invented by mankind- to himself.

Adrien also had his own set of rooms, housed in a small cavelet off of Plagg’s receiving cave- where he met with guests on a semi-formal basis, which would have been called a parlor or salon in Agrestia. It had a kitchen area, a bedroom, and a washroom with a large wooden tub in it. Surprisingly, there was a hole in the bottom of the tub which he was supposed to stop up with a large plug of wax whenever he used it. Apparently there was a convenient crack in the rock there, which would carry the waste water away. The kitchen’s sink also connected to that crack.

There was an enchanted clothespress in Adrien’s new bedroom. It took him a couple of tries to get it to understand that he wanted  _ male _ clothing, but once it grasped the difference, he was supplied with endless shirts, trousers, socks, and boots in unrelieved black. Apparently Plagg had a fancy for having his Princesses match his own coloring. Honestly, Adrien didn’t mind. True black was a difficult color to achieve- much harder than the white of his completely honorary Agrestian military dress uniform. Paired with the simple gold coronet he’d brought with him, it was a nice change, and probably wouldn’t show stains, which was a plus. Plagg had told him he’d be expected to cook and clean, and… frankly Adrien knew little about either of those things. He’d be making a lot of messes trying to learn and it would be a bother if he had to keep changing his clothes.

That first evening Adrien managed, by carefully following a recipe from a cookbook that he found tucked away in a cupboard in the kitchen, to almost poison both of them. Plagg had simply charred his portion and gulped it down anyway, and recommended Adrien to stick with bread and cheese until he could cook for himself without suffering any ill effects. Adrien had agreed, then hastily excused himself to his washroom. This morning he’d cooked himself some simple porridge, and while it turned out half burned, it also didn’t send him running to the washroom again. He counted that as a win.

A little later that morning, Adrien heard some kind of commotion echoing through the tunnels, but Plagg recommended him not to waste time investigating. 

“You’re not fireproof, kid. Besides, if it’s serious, the King will handle it.” 

That brought some of the questions that had been crowding his thoughts to mind.

“Who is the King of the Dragons?” Adrien asked, while polishing a silver-plated shield. The Queen’s treasure caves were worse than the library, so he had decided to start there. Plagg lounged on an inclined rock formation spread with a huge fur rug, reading another book- a different one from the day before. Adrien suspected he was a fast reader.

“Oh, that’s Tikki,” he said, turning another page. “It’s been Tikki ever since King Kazul died, oh… about fifty years ago. Heck, Tikki’s the only reason I took over as Queen! ... This book is terrible.”

“Really? Was there a great battle between them?”

“What?” Plagg looked up.

“Did King Kazul and King Tikki fight for the crown? Were they great enemies?”

Plagg stared at him. “No. We didn’t even know King Kazul before her death, and as far as anyone here could tell, she died of old age.”

“Oh. Then how did Tikki become the King?”

“The King of the Dragons in the Mountains of Morning is whoever can carry Colin’s Stone from the Vanishing Mountain all the way to the Ford of Whispering Snakes. In fact, Tikki only became the King of the Dragons  _ here _ because none of the dragons that were living here at the time could do it, so they had to open the field to other enclaves. Tikki came in answer to the call but she wasn’t the only one, she was just the first dragon who made the whole trip without dropping the stone.”

“Were you disappointed not to become the King?” Adrien asked, still curious.

Plagg started laughing. “Great good gods, no! Being King would be far too much work. I’m a lazy one, I am, but Tikki and I have always been good friends, and being Queen suits me just fine. All I have to do is hold one banquet a month and house the occasional visiting diplomat. As you can imagine, being dragons, we don’t get many of those.”

Adrien found himself chuckling, too. “I guess not. So, one banquet a month… what’s my role when that happens?”

“Serve the meal, of course. You won’t have to worry about cooking it. When Tikki became the King, one of the coronation gifts was a Cauldron of Plenty, from a Giant that lives… somewhere close by. She’s got a full staff of cooks, so she didn’t have a use for it and gave it to me. Well…  _ loaned _ it to me- no dragon ever just  _ gives _ something away- but it amounts to the same thing. It can handle most things, just not desserts. Think you can handle cooking up some desserts once a month?”

Adrien grimaced. “I can certainly try. Maybe I’ll focus on that-”

“Plagg!” a loud shout came from the tunnel entrance to the caves. 

“That’s your cue, kid. And don’t forget to use your false name!” They’d talked it over the night before, and decided that Adrien should use a different name here, since many questing knights and Princes might hear of the missing Prince Adrien and take news of his location back to Agrestia. And since Plagg’s chosen uniform for his Princesses was always black, Adrien had chosen to go with the simple Prince Noir.

Adrien nodded, then quickly propped the shield against the wall and went to welcome the visitor.

The visitor was a dragon not quite so big as Plagg, one with grey scales, and two pinkish horns. 

“Greetings,” Adrien said, pitching his voice a little louder and making his best bow. “In the name of Plagg, I welcome you to the Queen’s caves. I am Prince Noir. May I ask who is calling?”

The dragon stared at him, bowed low to sniff at him, then shot back up. 

“You  _ are _ a Prince!” the dragon accused, in a much more youthful voice than Adrien had expected, given the color of its scales.

“Indeed, I am,” Adrien said, smiling brightly. He’d asked Plagg what kind of reaction he should show when word of him acting as a Princess got out, and Plagg had told him to be as brazen as he liked while still being polite. 

“What are you doing here?” the dragon now asked, suspiciously.

“I am the Queen’s new Princess,” Adrien replied promptly. “As of yesterday.”

The dragon blinked. “You are? Oh. Well… tell Plagg that Mullo is here to see him.”

“Of course. Would you like to come in and wait? Can I offer you some refreshment?”

The dragon was still leaning slightly away from him, apparently not quite sure what to make of him. “Um… no.”

“Very well. Please wait here while I inform the Queen of your arrival.” Adrien bowed again, hiding a grin, and pivoted on his heels before marching back to the receiving room.

“Plagg!” he called, dropping the formality as soon as he thought he was out of sight and/or earshot, “a dragon named Mullo is here to see you.”

“Excellent. I was hoping he’d drop by,” Plagg said, sitting up straighter and putting aside his book. “He’s the biggest gossip in the mountains. Bring him in and then go ask the cauldron in the big kitchen for some scones. Blueberry and cheese. And some tea.”

“Right. Uh… big kitchen?”

“It’s off the banquet cave, you can’t miss it.”

“Thank you,” Adrien said. When he brought the dragon in, Plagg had already had a very smug look on his face, and when he left to get the scones, Mullo started berating Plagg for not telling his juicy secret before Adrien had even left the cave.

“Really, Plagg, a  _ Prince? _ And I thought King Tikki picking a common girl was odd…”

“Oh?” Plagg replied. “Do tell.”

Adrien smiled to himself and went to find the big kitchen. Like Plagg had said, it was housed in a medium sized cave that connected to the banquet cave. The cauldron sat in state over an everburning fire- Adrien could only assume it was enchanted, since there was no sign of wood or coal beneath it. An odd echoing bubbling sound came from inside, but when he looked in, it appeared to be empty.

Hesitantly, he tapped the edge of it with the wooden ladle that hung from a hook nearby. “Oh Cauldron, could I please have twelve dragon-sized blueberry scones, and twelve dragon-sized cheese scones? And a large kettle of lavender tea, please.”

The cauldron burbled happily and as the scones appeared near the top of it Adrien lifted them out- each the size of a dinner plate, yet from what he could tell, perfectly done. He loaded them all onto two huge platters, then, as the cauldron hissed irritably, he rushed over to retrieve the kettle of tea.

“Thank you very much,” Adrien said politely, and the cauldron blurped in a mollified sort of way before returning to its previous idle bubbling. Adrien turned his attention to getting the food back to his master in a timely manner. Fortunately, he spied a cart in the shadows, so he loaded the platters and the kettle onto that, then carefully wheeled it out and down the passage to the receiving room. Plagg’s visitor was just finishing his tale when he came in.

“... so we all went to see King Tikki. And you know how Tikki is, she’s as fair as the day is long, but even she knew we couldn’t just let the poor girl go, so she put her up for anyone to claim. But of course no one wants a girl who isn’t really a Princess. Most of us already have Princesses right now, anyway. So Tikki took the girl herself, and I heard that she’s going to get the title of Chief Cook and Librarian. And I must say, if what the girl said when questioned is true, she’ll probably do a good job of it.”

Plagg chuckled. “And if I know Tikki, that girl will  _ be _ a Princess before the year is out!”

“I don’t know about that… most of the knights and things that come up here are looking for a specific Princess, you know what I mean? Either that, or the lands and dowry that come with a Princess… Speaking of,” Mullo said, absentmindedly taking the shallow bowl of tea Adrien was presenting to him. “What about your own little Princeling? What’s the story there?”

Plagg looked directly at him and said, “Want to tell it yourself, Noir? Or should I do the honors?”

Adrien bowed a little. “I can certainly speak for myself, if it’s not too forward of me.”

Plagg waved that aside. “If it was too forward, I wouldn’t have suggested it.”

“Very well, then. My kingdom is the sort in which nothing exciting ever happens, which is no doubt very nice for the common folk, but rather boring for me. I wanted to go adventuring, but my father wouldn’t allow me to learn anything but the basics of weaponry and no survival skills at all. A friendly frog observed that my state was more like that of a Princess than a Prince and suggested I take a traditional Princessly path to escape my troubles. I followed the frog’s directions, and suddenly found myself in a large cave confronting a dragon! You may imagine how disconcerted I felt. Queen Plagg here was kind enough to hear me out before devouring me for my impudence, and… here I am!”

Plagg snorted. “The kid arrived on a spurt of magic so old that it unravelled almost before he completely materialized. I don’t know who put up the spell in the first place, but it’s definitely not going to work for anyone else ever again. It must have been centuries old, and I could tell from the stink that it was never meant to hold together for so long.”

“And you’re not interested in running off with anyone?” Mullo asked, squinting down at Adrien suspiciously, but nevertheless holding his teacup out for a refill.

“Of course not,” Adrien replied, hefting the kettle. “Part of why I ran away was because Father wanted me to choose a bride- but not really a bride of  _ my _ choosing. I was supposed to pick from a bevy of Princesses he’d already approved.” Even now, he grimaced at the thought. “I’m not ready to settle down- I haven’t even lived yet! And when I do settle down, I want to make my own choice. After all, I’m the one who’s going to have to live with her. For that matter,  _ she’s  _ the one who’s going to have to live with  _ me _ , so it’ll be better if we don’t involve our parents in it at all.”

Mullo blinked. “Well… I guess that’s alright, then.” He looked back at Plagg. “Good luck convincing some of the more excitable dragons… although I must say, you do seem to have found a most unusual Prince.”

Plagg grinned smugly. “I know.”

“So what  _ do _ you plan to do here, Noir? I can’t say I relish the thought of a Prince learning all our secrets,” Mullo said then. “Or giving the rest of our Princesses ideas, whether you mean to or not.”

Adrien knew it wasn’t very polite to shrug, but there it was. “Catching up on things I missed out on, mostly. I’d like to learn something of magic, particularly how to identify if something or someone is enchanted for instance, or whether something near me will cause  _ me _ to pick up an enchantment or two. I definitely want to polish my fighting skills- I thought I might act as champion for any dragon who doesn’t particularly feel like fighting the knights or Princes who come to challenge them once I’m better. Learn how to cook and clean, obviously.”

“You’d fight  _ on behalf _ of a dragon? And you  _ want _ to learn cooking and cleaning?”

“From the tales I heard growing up, I doubt adventuring is very comfortable at the best of times,” Adrien replied honestly, “but it would be more so with dirty clothes and an empty belly, don’t you think? As for fighting on behalf of a dragon, well… I imagine those with the more popular Princesses might get tired of it after a while, and I  _ do _ need to practice… So I’d like to stay long enough to learn these things and then strike out on my own- perhaps find a life I’m better suited for than tamely waiting for my turn to die.”

“And knowing this about adventuring, you still want to do it?”

Adrien smiled rather grimly. “I’ve had twenty years of ‘safe and comfortable,’ and I’ve only ever found it dull. Adventuring might not be comfortable or safe, but at least it will be exciting.”

Mullo stared at him. “Well. I always knew you Princes were mad… but I suppose the world wouldn’t be the same if we didn’t have a whole pack of you roaming around looking for trouble.”

Plagg grinned wider and picked up the platter of cheese scones himself, offering it to his visitor with one claw. 

“Scone?” he asked, as close to dulcet as Adrien imagined a dragon ever got. Mullo shook himself and took a scone and the conversation turned back to draconic business. Or rather, draconic scandals of the petty and trite variety. Eventually Mullo had laid out all the gossip he’d come to spread, and left.

When Adrien got back after escorting him out, Plagg gave a satisfied sigh. “I was hoping he’d come today- and I was sure he would after that commotion early this morning. Your story will be all over the warren by suppertime.”

“And that’s… good?” Adrien asked, retrieving the shield he’d been polishing earlier.

“Oh yes. Mullo will spread your false name around, and everyone will forget about the commoner in Tikki’s quarters, which will be best for all concerned.”

Adrien blinked, then squinted suspiciously. “This is one of the Queen’s duties, isn’t it?” he said. “To take pressure off the King when they do something the other dragons won’t approve of?”

“Nonsense. Whatever gave you that idea?” Plagg said, then winked. Adrien grinned back at him.

“Well then, I’m happy to be of service, your majesty,” he said, bowing in the grand manner.

Plagg just chucked his book at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really enjoying writing this dynamic between Plagg and Adrien.


	4. In Which Marinette bakes macarons, and finds a useful book

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette begins settling into her new life and role.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter! I swear. I wanted to introduce some of the other Princesses, but it just wasn't working. But this is still a step in the right direction, and I hope you enjoy it!

Marinette had found that things were exactly as the King had described- the kitchen was well stocked, both with ingredients and with pots, pans, and utensils, and the wardrobe in her bedroom was indeed enchanted. Looking over everything, Marinette decided a simple meal would do for that evening. Considering the state of her nerves- though those were quickly recovering- anything rich or too fiddly would only lead to a stomach ache. So she took some thin cuts of meat, cut herself a few slices of bread, buttered it, and layered the meat with some greens she found inside a stone cupboard along with a glazed crock of butter, a jug of milk, another of cream, and some eggs. The inside of the cupboard was noticeably cooler than the rest of the kitchen, which explained why the perishable items were in it.

After she ate, she went in to deal with the enchanted wardrobe. The first time she’d opened it she’d nearly been blinded by the flash of jewels on silk and satin gowns. That wouldn’t do at all for her- she was no Princess. And besides, such clothing would be highly impractical for the kind of work she would be doing.

Alright, so her station in life had gone up a bit. Chief Cook and Librarian? That called for a slightly better weave of cloth and some richer colors perhaps, but still, a plain yet elegant style was the best bet. Something like what that upper servant wore at home… perhaps in the King’s colors?

Picturing what she wanted in her mind’s eye, she opened the door again, this time to find more appropriate clothing. She changed quickly, and when she wondered what to do with her old clothes, one of the lower drawers rattled suggestively. Hesitantly, Marinette opened it, only to find that instead of pulling the drawer  _ out _ , the top of it pivoted  _ down _ so that it was like opening a laundry chute. Marinette smiled.

At length a gong sounded, and Marinette took that as her cue to emerge and learn about her new responsibilities.

\----

“So that’s basically it,” the King told her. Marinette had found a little pad of paper and a pencil in the kitchen and had brought those with her in order to take notes. She finished writing the last sentence and looked at what her new duties would be. Simple enough, really… she would miss designing and sewing, but she was a proficient cook and baker and she was fairly sure she knew some recipes this King of Dragons might not have encountered before.

“Is there anything else you want to know?” The King asked, regarding her thoughtfully.

Marinette thought for a moment, then nodded firmly. “Yes. What is your name, if you please?”

The King grinned that slightly unsettling grin again. “My name is Tikki. And yours?”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“ _ Three _ names! Are you sure you’re not a Princess?” Tikki teased.

Marinette flushed. “The last two are my father and mother’s family names.”

“And you keep both of them? Why not just one or the other?”

“My heritage is from two sides of a great continent, your majesty, but it’s combined in me. I like to honor both of them.”

“I see. Well it’s been a long day for you…” Tikki trailed off as a bell rang through the caves. “Ah. It seems I have company… or  _ you _ do,” Tikki said, actually winking. The great dragon heaved itself up and lumbered off toward one of the caves in which there were huge piles of cushions and rugs. “If it’s a dragon, bring them in. If it’s some of the Princesses, feel free to entertain them in your own rooms.”

“Yes, your majesty,” Marinette said, bowing. She hurried off toward the entrance, hardly knowing which kind of visitor she was hoping for. For some reason the King had taken a liking to her, but any royal had to be treated with a certain amount of wariness, and doubly so for  _ dragon _ royalty. She wasn’t looking forward to meeting any more dragons, at least not immediately, but she didn’t know if she could face meeting Princesses either. Not when she’d been accidentally captured  _ instead of _ a Princess, and now occupied a post that was supposed to be held by a Princess, no matter what her actual title was.

With a mixture of relief and apprehension, she recognized the dragon waiting at the entrance to Tikki’s caves- it was Mullo, the grey-scaled, pink horned dragon who had rescued her that morning. Marinette bowed low.

“Welcome to the King’s caves-” she started, then paused. “My apologies, but I don’t know the correct form of address for a dragon.”

Mullo smiled just enough to expose the front rows of teeth, which was not enough to unnerve Marinette after the day she’d had.

“I’m surprised Tikki hasn’t told you that yet. But you can just call me by my name since you know it, and I don’t hold any positions, like Tikki or Plagg.”

Marinette smiled and bowed shallowly in thanks. “Then, be welcome Mullo. The King bade me bring you straight in. Please follow me.”

Somehow, despite the fact that weariness was stealing her ability to feel and react to fear, turning her back on Mullo still sent a shiver down her spine. Marinette did her best to conceal that, and led the way back to Tikki’s receiving room.

“Ah, Mullo! Now what brings you by this evening? I would have thought you would be spreading the tale of Kaalki’s embarrassment far and wide.” Tikki said, grinning at the arrival. “Marinette, you may be excused for the rest of the evening. Mullo will show himself out when he leaves.”

Marinette bowed and went back to her own rooms, overhearing only the first part of what Mullo said before her own door closed.

The visiting dragon chuckled. “As it happens, I’ve already told a lot of dragons about Kaalki. But you will  _ never  _ believe what I found when I visited Plagg. He’s got a new Princess, too!”

Marinette briefly wondered who Plagg was, but she was too tired to think much about it. She spent a moment looking around the small little kitchen, taking note of a couple of cookbooks sitting on a shelf above the fireplace. She would have to take a look at those in the morning. For tonight she was just too tired. 

Giving in to the inevitable, Marinette went into her bedchamber, put on a clean nightgown- courtesy of the enchanted wardrobe- and went to bed.

\----

The next day was a very full one for Marinette. She thoroughly explored her new domain- Tikki’s caves- and made herself known to the dragon cooks. The one in charge of the main kitchen- a two-horned dragon called Stompp- took her aside to assess her skills. He was reluctantly impressed by what she said she could do (and Marinette was beginning to suspect that all two-horned dragons were male… which left the three-horned dragons as female… which begged some questions in her mind).

He set Marinette to making a special dessert for dinner that evening, and Marinette, seeing that there were plenty of eggs, set to making macarons. To her surprise, the pantry in the big kitchen actually had almond flour- it wasn’t something she would have expected to find so far from home. She went to ask Stompp and found him busy blowing a very controlled stream of fire at a tender haunch of venison. She decided not to interrupt him during this delicate process and simply watched instead.

“Excuse me, Stompp?” Marinette asked, once he’d stopped flaming. Stompp spared her a glance even as he reached for a small cauldron full of a sauce that smelled both spicy and sweet.

“Yes?” He began using a large paintbrush- the kind you would use to paint a whole house, not just a picture- to spread the sauce over the meat.

“I was wondering about the pantry-” She didn’t get any farther as Stompp interrupted her.

“There’s a spell on it,” he said, sounding bored. “Apparently there was a firewitch a while ago that was grateful for something King Kazul- she was the King before Tikki- did and he transferred the spell directly from his own pantry to hers. It’ll always have exactly what’s needed, no matter what.”

“Oh. Well, that’s good. I’ll just get back to work,” Marinette said, and did so. There was even a kind of spring in her step. It was true that cooking and baking were more her parents’ passions than hers, but they’d taught her well, and now she didn’t have to feel bad about using up all the eggs.

Making dragon sized macarons was a learning process, though. Piping such a large disk wasn’t difficult, but she had to let it sit for much longer than she was used to. Fortunately, she decided to only bake a few to start, so she could judge temperature and timing. The big kitchen had ovens built into the side of the fireplace, so the interiors got hot without having to contend with soot and open flames. There were three carved into the stone, one on top of the others, and lined with brick. Marinette found that the topmost oven was coolest, and the bottom got the hottest, with the middle oven splitting the difference. Since no one else was baking anything at present, she decided to put one macaron in each oven and time them to see how they did.

The bottom macaron got too hot and burnt before baking all the way through. The middle one browned too much, but did bake all the way. And the topmost macaron was… perfect! Marinette smiled and baked the rest of the cookies in the top oven. It took most of the morning- baking two macarons at a time (all that could fit in the oven) was very slow. But it gave Marinette plenty of time to make the fillings. She did three different kinds- a chocolate, a raspberry, and a lemon.

Once all the macarons were done and she’d sandwiched them with the fillings, she presented them to Stompp for tasting. He’d been peeking over her shoulder from time to time as he prepared the rest of Tikki’s lunch and made plans for her dinner. He’d seemed dubious at first- Marinette supposed that he’d never seen egg whites beaten to such a fluffy whiteness before- but his eyebrows rose when he tasted one of the lemon filled ones.

“Ooooh, the King will  _ love _ these!” he said, enthusiastic for the first time since Marinette had entered his domain. Then his borderline surly disposition reasserted itself, and he grunted. “Uses too many eggs, though. And what am I supposed to do with all the yolks…? Ah, go eat some lunch yourself,” he said, waving her away. “And don’t come back until an hour before dinner! You’re to serve the King tonight, and I need to make sure you’re up to the task.”

“Of course. Thank you, Stompp!” Marinette replied and left, feeling tired but accomplished. Her arms were sore from whipping all those egg whites and the last thing she wanted was anything sweet. 

She made herself some simple stir-fried vegetables and a bowl of soup, then pulled down the cookbooks out of curiosity. She opened the first, hoping to find new recipes to try. At first the writing was unfamiliar, but then it seemed to turn and twist, blurring in her sight. Marinette almost dropped the book, but then familiar characters reformed on the page and she could read it. It wasn’t a cookbook at all, but someone’s… Cimorene?... diary. It began simply enough.

_ "Greetings fair reader. I say fair because I am assuming, since you have found this book, that a dragon has found you fair of heart and mind, and deemed you worthy of rising to the post of Chief Cook and Librarian to the King of the Dragons. Physical coloring doesn’t matter in the slightest, after all.  _

_ Now, I’ve always detested flowery commonplaces, so I will be brief and to the point. This book is written for your convenience and contains such things as I found useful and helpful in my term as a dragon’s Princess.  _

_ We begin, of course, with the fireproofing spell- something every dragon’s Princess ought to ward herself with, as there is never any knowing when unexpected flaming might occur. I transcribed this myself from the original scroll, which can be found on the fourth shelf of the second stack of scrolls in the library of the King of the Dragons, for reference." _

There followed a list of ingredients and their measurements, including wolfsbane, powdered hen’s teeth, unicorn water, and white eagle feathers. Where Marinette was supposed to find these things she wasn’t quite sure, but the idea of making herself fireproof was very appealing after her close call.

She copied out the spell for herself on a piece of paper, then began looking around for the ingredients. The book gave a hint on where Cimorene had hidden a jar of powdered hen’s teeth, and fortunately, when Marinette located the niche behind the magic mirror in the second treasure cave, the jar was still half-full. 

Marinette took it down and gazed at it, considering. _She_ wasn’t a Princess, no, but she had experienced the rage of a dragon herself. If she was going to go through all the trouble of locating the ingredients to fireproof herself, wouldn’t it be just as well to find enough of them to fireproof  _ all _ the Princesses in the Mountains of Morning? The only problem being that she didn’t know how many of them there were.

She brought it up later on, when she was finishing up polishing Tikki’s scales before dinner.

“I found Princess Cimorene’s diary or journal or whatever you want to call it… maybe a self-help book? Anyway, it was with the cookbooks in my little kitchen. Apparently she left it there for any other Dragon King’s Princess to find.”

Tikki rumbled satisfactorily. “I knew I was right about you- none of my other Princesses have found any such thing. And so?”

“Well, there’s a spell in there for making people fireproof. I think that might be a very useful thing to be, living here with dragons…”

“After Kaalki’s little display yesterday morning, I don’t blame you. Have you ever cast a spell before?”

“No, but she laid it all out very clearly, giving a list of ingredients and describing all the steps in detail. The only thing is…”

“You’re missing ingredients?”

“Well yes, but that’s not the problem. I’m sure I can find those somehow. It’s just… couldn’t I do the same for the other Princesses?”

Tikki turned her head to look at her. Marinette hurried on. She knew that dragons did not reason in human values exactly, though Tikki and Mullo had been kind to her and Stompp had not been actively hostile, so she’d come up with a reason that a dragon might appreciate. 

“It’s just that… well, Princesses might not be a high mark of status, but they’re still a mark of status, and wouldn’t they be more likely not to run away if they weren’t afraid of being burned?”

“Hmm… I will think about it. It’s not just the dragons who benefit by having Princesses, you know.  _ They _ benefit, too, and in more ways than just finding an eligible mate. One of those ways is learning how to master their fears. We dragons are dangerous by nature.”

Tikki’s tone wasn’t quite a warning. Marinette swallowed and stayed quiet for a moment. But then she got an idea and spoke up again, albeit in a much more tentative tone. 

“ _ One _ way to master a fear is to find a way to negate it. Besides, their dragons can still threaten to eat them if they misbehave.”

Tikki burst out in snorting laughter. “A point! A fair point, if cheekily made.” She thought for a moment. “I don’t mind you performing the spell on yourself for now, but as for the other Princesses… dragons are terribly possessive of their treasures and don’t like meddling. I’ll let you know in a few days.”

Marinette breathed a silent sigh of relief and, being done with the polishing, excused herself to get ready to serve the dinner. She wore more elegant clothing for that, deeming that Tikki’s status demanded it. Tikki seemed to approve how she handled herself, anyway. And to her delight, the macarons were indeed a hit.


	5. In Which Marinette settles in, Makes a few friends, and has to Confront her Comfort Zone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette gets more comfortable in her new position and begins to settle in, only for Tikki to throw her out of her comfort zone again by demanding she attend a party.

  
  


Marinette made herself both at home and useful over the next few days, familiarizing herself with the layout of the big kitchen, and getting every deeper into Stompp’s good graces- until, three days after her arrival, he declared himself satisfied with her competence and deigned to allow her to set menus and help with the preparation of everything but the dishes she was unfamiliar with. Since these mostly included a lot of herbs and spices she wasn’t used to using, Stompp prepared those himself with a good humor.

Marinette discovered the spelled pantry could supply her with some of the magical components she required for the fireproofing spell, though unicorn water was beyond it’s abilities, although strangely, it could supply her with white eagle feathers  _ and _ hippopotamus oil. Marinette didn’t even know what a hippopotamus  _ was _ , but surely it couldn’t be more esoteric or intrinsically enchanting than a  _ unicorn. _ Still, she now had most of the ingredients required, and she knew how to get unicorn water. Now if only she knew a place where she was likely to come across a unicorn…

Unfortunately, they tended to stay away from areas where dragons were plentiful. Most dragons wouldn’t attack them unless they happened to be in the way, but they were too stupid to know that. Hence why it was possible for heroes and hunters to lure them by tempting them with virginal maidens.

Still, she felt she was well on her way to being fire-proof. On the fourth day after her arrival, Tikki came back in the evening after dinner looking smug. 

“You’ll be happy to know I’ve managed to convince most of the dragons who currently have Princesses to allow you to fire-proof them,” she said. 

Marinette, standing ready with the polishing clothes and a stepstool, smiled. “Thank you, your majesty. As it is, I only need unicorn water to complete the ingredient list. If it’s alright, I’d like to test it on myself before I go trying to enchant anyone else.”

Tikki raised an eyebrow ridge. Marinette blushed. “Oh, not because I think you’ll accidentally roast me, but as you said, I’ve never cast a spell before and I would hate to be responsible for tuning a Princess into something else, or… or something.”

“Ah. Well, perhaps you’re right to be cautious. Still, I know for a fact that it worked for Princess Cimorene- there are eyewitness accounts of her standing engulfed in flames and not suffering even scorched lungs- so it ought to work for you as well.”

Marinette bowed politely, still holding on to reservations. Even though she thought it was a good plan to fireproof the Princesses, she’d had nightmares for the past two nights of things going terribly, terribly wrong. She’d already experienced one consequence of meddling in things which were not her concern, and she did not want to make an enemy of either a dragon whose Princess accidentally went up in flames, or her royal family.

She was beginning to know her way around the warren of tunnels now, and had even met most of the Princesses currently in captivity, though the one belonging to the Queen of the dragons remained elusive.

There was Princess Mylene, captive of Mullo, who was very kind and had decided opinions on ornamentation- her gowns were ornamented with ribbons and embroidery, because she thought the mining of jewels and precious metals was exploitative. She wore her hair braided with a rainbow of colored ribbons and only wore a tiara if she was going out. Most of the time she had a scarf tied over her hair to keep the dust off, which Marinette thought very sensible. Princess Mylene had confided that Mullo might well have taken her in if he hadn’t already had  _ her _ , and apologized for the inconvenience to Marinette. Marinette found herself liking the Princess, and it was hard to remember her own place around her.

Then there was Princess Rose, a very optimistic creature- perhaps a bit too optimistic for reality, but Marinette found she couldn’t hold it against her. She was the captive of Roarr, a dragon with dark purple scales and wickedly sharp claws. 

Princess Chloe, captive of the dragon Pllen, was almost as recent an addition as Marinette, and she was the one who acted the most like the only Princess Marinette had already known- Kagami. Except that Princess Kagami, though carefully distant and obviously aware of the difference in stations, would never stoop to outright rudeness, or treat her servants in the dismissive way Princess Chloe did. 

At first Princess Chloe had been haughty, but not rude. However, as soon as she learned that Marinette was  _ not _ a Princess herself, she became insulting and even demanded that Marinette do the menial tasks assigned to her by Pollen. These were not difficult, and would not have taken long, but Marinette had more pride in herself than to meekly agree, pointing out that she had plenty of things to do for her own dragon. Thus, the two of them became instant enemies. Marinette was not looking forward to fire-proofing Chloe, but she supposed that even a Princess as rude as Chloe did not deserve to be accidentally roasted. 

On the fifth day after her arrival, Tikki summoned Marinette to tell her that Plagg was throwing his monthly banquet the next evening.

“He’s made a change this time, though. The guest list includes the Princesses of the dragons who are attending, and there’s supposed to be a separate feast for all of you after you finish serving us. Apparently his new Princess is not so handy in the kitchen and has already broken several things, so he’s asked for other Princesses to help out with the washing up. The feast for the Princesses is supposed to be a payment of sorts for your services.”

Tikki grinned, and though it was still unnervingly toothy, Marinette was beginning to be able to see the difference between a humorous smile and a threatening one. This one was humorous.

“I’m not really a Princess, though. I’m your Chief Cook and Librarian,” Marinette said, sticking staunchly to her self-imposed insistence on the distinction.

But Tikki wasn’t going to let her get out of it that way. “All the more reason for you to go. You’ll be able to direct the service and then preside over the washing up in an organized manner. Besides, that Princess of Pollen’s is going to be there, and I’d like someone to make sure she actually does her fair share.”

Tikki started to amble off then paused, looking back and adding, “You’ll need to wear something more formal than those plain, wrapped robes you like so much. Oh, and I hope you like cheese- Plagg’s obsessed with it.”

That was the closest to an actual order Tikki had ever given her, but Marinette knew it might as well be one. 

“Yes, your majesty,” Marinette replied, with a sigh and a bow. Satisfied, Tikki left, muttering about needing to have a word with Pollen about the behavior of her Princess.

\----

The next morning, after breakfast, Marinette bit her lip over the coming dinner. This was a formal event hosted by the Queen of the Dragons, and  _ technically _ she was the social equal of the Princesses here. She didn’t want to look out of place beside them. She might not be a Princess, but she was still a member of the King’s household, and she had Tikki’s status to uphold. 

As a seamstress, she couldn’t help but notice the fashions of the other dragons’ Princesses, which were quite different from what she was used to. She might have been able to imagine herself in an elegant kimono- such as she had designed for Princess Kagami- but she didn’t have the first clue how to cut or structure the elaborate gowns of Princess Chloe for instance, with their preposterously wide skirts and stiff bodices. Nor did she have time to actually make something like that, even if she knew where to start. However, she did have an enchanted wardrobe. She just didn’t know what to ask it for.

So, at a loss for what to do about the required dress, she went to see Princess Rose, who seemed the most likely to be willing to aid her. Marinette liked Princess Mylene, but she didn’t admire her style. Princess Rose might be addicted to all things pink, but at least she did not dress like a rainbow.

Fortunately, the Princess in question was home and free to help her. In fact, she squealed and immediately demanded to be allowed to help.

“I even have an enchanted brush and comb set you can use on your hair. You’ve always worn it so plainly, and I can’t do hair to save my life! Now, what did you have in mind for your gown? I’m wearing pink, of course,” Princess Rose gestured to her own, relatively plain pink-striped day gown, “and I think you would look so charming in pink, too!”

“Oh no,” Marinette immediately objected. “It’s not that I don’t like pink! But that’s your color and… and well, I’m not Princess, am I? I’m only going because the King wanted me to. So, I should be wearing her colors, since I’m part of her household.”

Princess Rose sighed, then grimaced. “If you say so. But I still think you would look so sweet… but ugh! Imagine if we all went wearing the colors of our dragons! I would have to wear  _ purple! _ And I would look hideous, just like something that died, because it would completely wash me out!”

“Purple is a lovely color, your highness,” Marinette defended, though there was a twinkle in her eye. She had to agree that, with her complexion, the Princess could not wear any shade of purple without looking sick.

“Oh, just call me Rose!”

Marinette’s smile dropped. “Oh, I couldn’t-”

“Now, don’t be  _ utterly ridiculous _ ,” Rose insisted, with a wink. “We are both captives of dragons, and that makes us the same! Besides, I’ve gotten out of the habit of being ‘your highness’-ed and called ‘Princess’ all the time. I have such a lovely name, and yours is very pretty too! It seems a shame not to use them, don’t you think?”

Marinette had to smile. The Princess’ little dig at Princess Chloe’s frequent complaint at the most minor inconvenience convinced her. She would still be respectful, but perhaps she did not have to be quite so formal around this royal.

They spent an hour discussing possible designs over tea in Rose’s chambers, and by the end of it Marinette was comfortable calling her by her name.

Rose- who, it soon became obvious, wanted  _ everything _ to be pink- continued to argue that her favorite hue would bring out Marinette’s eyes. But Marinette- conscious that she was still  _ not _ a Princess- insisted that something in Tikki’s colors would be the most appropriate. They eventually agreed on a dress design, though Rose broke up the glaring red of it by including black lace and rosettes. Marinette changed the rosettes to embroidered lady beetles, as a non-specific nod to her homeland.

Then Rose opened her own wardrobe, pointing out and explaining every undergarment Marinette would need, and when Marinette started looking hopelessly lost and overwhelmed, offered to come early and help her dress. Marinette gratefully accepted the offer.

Then it was time for Marinette to go back and serve lunch. Tikki asked her if she knew what she would be wearing to the feast that night, and Marinette nodded.

“I asked one of the other Princesses to help me,” she said, and Tikki nodded in satisfaction and let the matter drop.

After that, Marinette had hours to prepare for the night’s event, and honestly, she could have used more time than that to mentally prepare. She began by taking a bath. At least that was a pleasure, with piping hot water and fine soap- though she was sure it was the only true pleasure she would get out of the evening. By the time Marinette sat carefully drying her hair by the fire, Princess Rose arrived, already gowned, calling from the back entrance.

Marinette hurried her through to her own chambers, hair carefully wrapped in a towel.

“Would you like some tea? And here, I have macarons- they’re a special kind of dessert my father taught me to bake. He’s from Francia, you know. I can make them dragon-sized, too, though of course that takes a long time. King Tikki loves them!”

Rose accepted, savoring the tea and exclaiming over the cookies. But it was a short reprieve. Soon, Rose popped back up and shoved Marinette through to her bedchamber. Marinette eyed the enchanted wardrobe as if it were an enemy. Rose patted her shoulder encouragingly.

Marinette took a final shaky breath and thought  _ hard _ as her fingers brushed the wood of the door. It swung open at her touch and there hung the exact gown she had envisioned. It was a ruby-red velvet gown embellished with embroidered lady beetles. There were two inches of soft black lace edging the neck and waist-line of the bodice, and the skirt had a split in the front, to show off a black lace panel on the underskirt. One of the drawers rattled, and Marinette pulled it open to find all the underthings Rose had shown her earlier. Marinette quickly put on the chemise and stockings, then let Rose help her with the corset, petticoats, and required padding. 

Thankfully, the actual dress was not as intimidating as the underthings. She put the skirts on first, then Rose laced up the bodice in the back and pulled little puffs of the linen chemise through slits in the tight-fitting sleeves to allow for movement. When everything was on, Marinette was surprised. She had expected it to be far less comfortable than it actually was. Not that it was half as comfortable as her usual attire, but she felt less restricted than she had expected it to be.

Next, Rose sat her down in front of her dresser and handed her the enchanted hairbrush. “Just ask it for whatever you want,” she squeaked happily.

Marinette thought for a moment. She was not a fan of the elaborately curled hairstyles sported by the actual Princesses, nor did she think she could pull off the look herself. Still, she wanted to see what her own hair would look like when curled. 

Making a decision, she said, “Soft curls, please,” before beginning to brush her straight black hair. The brush glided through her locks, leaving beautiful soft waves behind it. They reminded her of the sea she had crossed three times now, and hoped to cross one more time when she finally went home. Marinette blinked back tears.

“Are you sure?” Rose asked, fluttering worried hands around her head behind her. “It doesn’t seem very, well… formal.”

“It’s perfect,” Marinette said. “It just needs a few ornaments.”

She wasn’t entitled to a crown, but Marinette twisted some hair at her temples and pinned the resulting coils in place with some very nice black pearl hairpins that matched a black pearl necklace she had found in one of Tikki’s treasure vaults. The necklace had been strung with interspersed jet beads so it caught the light unexpectedly. She looped the necklace twice around her neck before letting the rest hang down almost to her waist. 

Finally, Marinette slipped on a pair of soft, black suede slippers- Rose had shown her the type of high-heeled shoe usually worn with this type of gown, but she wasn’t going to tempt fate- and stood up, ready to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The style of clothing in the Enchanted Forest Chronicles is very medieval. I have updated the styles a little- please, if you happen to be a costumer, don't hold my probable inconsistencies against me!


	6. In Which a Dinner is Served, and a Prince is Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette and Tikki attend Plagg's dinner.

Adrien, studied his reflection in the mirror. It was important for him to look especially presentable tonight, since he would be meeting many dragons- and their Princesses- for the first time. He wasn’t looking forward to either, but it was unfortunately part of his duties to serve at dinner when Plagg hosted. So tonight, instead of the serviceable and loose work clothes he had been wearing, Adrien was dressed in something similar to the clothing he’d arrived in- namely a pseudo-military suit. It was still black and thankfully missing the decorations he felt he hadn’t truly earned. The seams were edged in gold, the buttons were gold, and there was a cloth of gold sash, but it was otherwise plain and didn’t weigh him down with unspoken expectations.

Satisfied that everything fit well enough, Adrien reluctantly settled the thin coronet on his head and went out to make sure the banquet cave was ready for guests. Earlier he had spread an absolutely enormous tablecloth over the stone table- which was a job in itself, considering the top of the table came to his chest. Fortunately he didn’t have to worry about juggling giant versions of porcelain plates and crystal glasses and cutlery. They were dragons after all, and cutlery would be nothing more than an expensive toothpick to them. They would be just as happy eating from silver platters and occasionally dipping their snouts into elegant glazed bowls filled with wine or water.

The main banquet cave looked to be in good order, and the Cauldron of Plenty was happily bubbling away making the first course. At least he didn’t have to worry about cooking, though he wasn’t sure his attempt at tempered chocolates would be good enough for dessert. He’d worked all week on them, and the last batches looked a lot better than the first few. There was certainly something to be said for practice, and he had hidden his first attempts at the bottom of the pile. 

But now he turned his attention to the small side cave where he would be hosting the Princesses. He sighed again, and just counted himself lucky that there would only be four of them. That was still four more Princesses than he  _ wanted _ to deal with, but at least it wasn’t twenty all at the same time.

He suppressed a shudder at that thought, remembering that if he hadn’t run away he might very well have been facing just that situation, instead of getting ready to serve dinner to twenty dragons. But he shook it off, and passed back into the main kitchen, trying to think of how he was going to organize the service with only four extra people, and wondering if he should serve the Princess feast immediately after the dragons dismissed them, or not until the dragons had left.

\----

To Marinette’s surprise, when they arrived at the Queen’s banqueting cave, they were the last guests to arrive. Tikki paused at the entrance which gave her time enough to catch up so that they could move into the larger space together. Marinette was grateful for the opportunity to catch her breath.

“King Tikki, and her Chief Cook and Librarian!” 

Marinette shot a tiny glare at the announcing dragon. She might not be a Princess, but she had a name, for goodness sake. That said, she decided not to push it. The cavern was already quite full of very large dragons of every color and description, and she had yet to assemble all the ingredients for the fire proofing spell. There was no sense in provoking anyone.

Tikki tilted her head briefly and murmured, “The kitchen is over yonder and, judging by the smoke, I would say your services are definitely required.”

“Of course, your majesty,” Marinette said. She waited for Tikki to move forward, then bowed deeply to the gathered dragons- most of whom ignored her- and hurried over to where there was smoke trickling from the entrance to another cave. 

When she arrived she beheld a scene of, if not chaos, at least panic. There was smoke hanging in the air from waist high to the ceiling, and the other Princesses were gathered just outside the door, nervously peering in. 

Marinette didn’t blame them- the Queen’s Princess, whoever she was, was obviously out of her depth. Though she couldn’t understand the words uttered between coughs, Marinette could tell by the tone alone that the unknown princess was using curses no ordinary princess would even know, let alone use. Still, much as she sympathized with her, there was a cave full of hungry dragons behind them, and the sound of a gong signaled that they were ready for dinner now that the King had arrived.

“Is it all quite ruined, or is it mostly salvageable?” Marinette called anxiously into the smoke.

The Princess coughed again, then said in a choked voice, “I burned the gravy!”

Marinette winced at the Princess’ tone- between the smoke and her obviously suppressed tears, her throat must have been in agony.

“Oh well, if it’s just the gravy, you can thank the god of small miracles! Everything else is fine, right?” Marinette sniffed a little, and suppressed a cough of her own. “If you don’t mind, we’d like to keep our dresses clean for the serving, and besides, it’s not a good idea for us to be coughing all over every dish. Could you just pass us the platters, and I’ll make sure everything gets served while you make a new batch of gravy? We'll all help with the washing up afterwards, of course.”

“I beg your pardon,” Princess Chloe’s strident voice spoke up from the side, “but I don’t recall anyone putting  _ you _ in charge, Dupain-Cheng. If anyone is going to direct the service, it should be me, since I’m obviously the most well-connected Princess here. I don’t even know why you came, and in such a ridiculous, gaudy gown. This dinner is for  _ royalty _ , not servants.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Actually, this dinner is for  _ dragons _ and we are merely here to serve it, which technically makes  _ all _ of us servants. I am here because the King insisted I come, as I have experience in cooking and cleaning that most of you lack. And, if you  _ must _ know, she specifically mentioned I should make sure that  _ you, _ Princess Chloe, actually perform your duties instead of palming them off on someone else.”

Princess Chloe’s gasp of outrage, and Princess Mylene and Rose’s giggles, were almost drowned out by another spate of coughing that sounded suspiciously like laughter from the smoky kitchen. Fortunately, two silver platters piled high with juicy brisket shortly emerged from the haze.

“Here, these go to the King and Queen respectively, then the next two are for Wayzz and Nooroo,” the Queen’s Princess choked out. Marinette quickly took one, motioned to Rose to take the other, and then they were off.

With twenty dragons to serve they were all kept busy, but fortunately the Queen’s Princess already had the order of service worked out, and they soon fell into a rhythm. Even Princess Chloe worked steadily, not having an opportunity to shirk since platters were constantly being thrust into her hands whenever she returned to the kitchen. Besides, from what Marinette could see whenever she snatched a moment to check on the others, the dragons Chloe was serving made it a habit to lick their teeth and stare very hard at her. Not even a princess as self-centered as Chloe would drag her feet with that kind of incentive for speedy service. 

The dragons, for the most part, ate neatly- not at all like ravenous beasts, though this didn’t surprise Marinette, who had been serving Tikki her meals for several days now. Nor did they spurn the vegetable dishes, though meat was naturally the predominant offering. They did eat quickly- as soon as Marinette was finished serving one dish to all of her assigned dragons, she had to return to Tikki to collect the empty platter and possibly refill her drinking bowl, working her way down the order over and over again. And so it went, until both full courses had been served. 

Finally, Marinette and the rest placed silver platters that could have served as mirrors at equal lengths along the table. Those platters were piled with shiny chocolates, and they could let the dragons help themselves. Marinette was grateful to retire back to the kitchen, which was slowly airing out. There was still a lot of smoke, but Plagg’s Princess had stopped coughing and while it was still very hazy near the entrance, it was possible to make out objects within the smoke.

Princesses Rose and Mylene were leaning gracefully up against the wall on one side of the kitchen entrance, while Princess Chloe looked more annoyed than woebegone, half-draped onto a counter on the other side. Marinette could just make out two feet standing a little further into the kitchen where the smoke hadn’t cleared yet. There were sounds of water being sloshed around, so she assumed the unknown princess was already doing the dishes.

Mentally sighing, Marinette went over to help. All she could make out was a tall dark shape with something brighter where a head should be. 

“Where are the towels?” Marinette asked, getting right down to business. She approved of this princess having the forethought to get started on the dishes, even as the food was being served.

“There is a stack behind you on the counter,” her unknown companion replied, and again Marinette was struck by how deep the Princess’ voice was. Marinette found a towel quickly, but when she turned back, the Princess took both her hands in a fervent, if somewhat damp, grasp.

“Thank you,” she said, and her deep, but heartfelt tone made Marinette smile. “I was panicking before you arrived, thinking that everything was ruined. Not that Plagg would have cared- I think he was looking forward to my failure, actually- but I have enough pride it would have stung for this dinner to go badly. Since coming here I have often regretted not learning how to cook, but never more so than tonight, even with the Cauldron of Plenty to rely on! When the gravy burned so badly, just because I put it over the fire to keep warm, I thought everything was lost! But then you came, and instead of standing by to watch me fail, you talked good sense and got my mind back on track.”

Marinette squeezed the unusually large hands holding hers sympathetically. 

“I’m glad I was able to help, if only to get things rolling,” she said kindly. “But you should give yourself more credit! That was an excellently planned meal, and you had the serving order already worked out… really, all the Princesses and I did was what you directed us to. And besides, gravy is easy enough to remake. Now,” she said, gently pulling out of the Princess’ grasp and picking up a wet dish, “Shall I just stack these to put away later?”

“Yes, that will be fine. And thank you again, Princess… Oh bother- I sincerely apologize for my rudeness, but introductions simply slipped my mind in all the bustle. But please, tell me your name?”

“Ugh, she’s not a princess!” Chloe complained, presumably still draped over her counter. “She’s just some jumped-up servant from a kingdom no one’s ever heard of. She’s not even supposed to be here, she just shoved herself in front of a  _ real _ princess and got herself captured.”

Marinette felt her face begin to burn, but instead of retorting, she focused on drying the dishes that were handed to her. Of course, she couldn’t really defend herself- what Chloe said was true. She  _ was _ simply a servant. But right now a servant was what was required… and perhaps she could make up a cough syrup for this kind and thoughtful Princess of Plagg’s. Her voice had only gotten deeper, and it had to have something to do with the smoke. Perhaps Princess Cimorene had written down a recipe...

“Well, if she did, I’m sure her former mistress is grateful. And even if she is not,  _ I _ am,” Plagg’s Princess said. “Besides, I was always taught that a Princess is, above all else, kind and generous to all. So whatever her birth, she will always be a Princess to  _ me _ .”

“I’m really not-” Marinette started to say, only to be interrupted.

“Why is this kitchen still filled with smoke?” a rumbly dragonish voice asked from the doorway.

“I’m sorry Plagg, but there aren’t any windows to open, and I don’t think the chimney is drawing properly.”

“There’s supposed to be a spell on the chimney to keep this kind of thing from happening,” Plagg groused. He then uttered something that sounded like the roar of a fire combined with a whistling wind, and the smoke began to flow past Marinette in wide bands, racing towards the chimney. In moments the kitchen was clear again. Plagg’s black head became visible- he looked grumpy, yet satisfied. The Princesses had all stood back up with his arrival, and each performed the ‘curtsey’ Rose had tried to teach Marinette, one after the other. Marinette bowed respectfully, not having managed to learn how to curtsey in such a short amount of time. She idly noted that the unknown princess also bowed.

“I’ll have to get someone to inspect that spell, but at least it’s working now. You all can go ahead and eat when you’re ready. Just remember to extinguish the torches when you’re done, Noir.”

“Yes, Plagg.”

Marinette turned back toward the princess she was now very curious about... and the platter she’d been drying slipped out of her hands. 

Well, perhaps ‘slipped’ was the wrong word to use. ‘Flew willy-nilly through the air’ seemed a more apt phrase for what happened when her arms jerked in surprise. For before her was standing not a Princess, but a  _ Prince _ .

Very obviously a Prince, too, despite the rolled up sleeves, the soap suds still clinging to his arms, and the damp patch across his belly. If the expensive tailored clothing with cloth-of-gold trimming and the ridiculous good looks weren’t enough to proclaim his status, the coronet on his head certainly was. 

Marinette’s flung platter crashed to the floor and rolled a little before slowly settling on the stone in ever faster revolutions- a sustained, but oddly muted clanging sound that highlighted the shocked silence.

The Prince ducked his head a little, and he rubbed the back of his neck while his eyes darted here and there. Plagg chuckled- part of Marinette’s brain recognized it for an  _ evil _ chuckle- and withdrew. That seemed to be a signal, because all three of the princesses suddenly gasped, and then Chloe  _ flung _ herself forward, arms wide.

“Oh, I’m  _ saved! _ My dear,  _ dear _ Prince, I don’t know  _ how _ you knew where to find me, but I assure you, my father will reward you handsomely for my rescue! You were so clever to infiltrate the dragons this way, but you didn’t have to go so far for little old me. Come, let us leave at once,  _ at once!” _

The Prince caught the stumbling Princess by her arms, preventing her from throwing herself on his chest.

“No, no, you mistake-!” he said, and Marinette flushed, realizing that the deepness she  _ thought _ had been caused by the excessive smoke was just his normal voice. Meanwhile, Chloe had miraculously modulated her own tone from the arrogant, strident one she was familiar with, to something soft and lilting.

“But my Prince,  _ of course _ you must be here to rescue me!” she said, looking up at him with a blinding smile and fluttering eyelashes. The Prince looked away, and happened to meet Marinette’s eyes. Marinette immediately dropped her gaze, but it was too late- she’d seen the desperation in that look.

“Princess Chloe,” she said, pulling herself back together. “Have you forgotten that this  _ Prince _ appears to be Plagg’s captive?”

For a moment, Chloe returned to her habitual manner. “Obviously he’s clever enough to avoid all the fuss and bother of a traditional rescue, Dupain-Cheng,” she scoffed. Then her tone changed to melting again. “Such a  _ wise _ and  _ noble _ plan,” she breathed, leaning as close to the Prince as she could.

But at that, the Prince firmly pushed her back on her own two feet. He let go and took a step to the side. He straightened his posture and spoke.

“My apologies, ladies,” he said. “It was not my intention to deceive any of you, but with the smoke earlier and the need to serve the dinner… Anyway, I am indeed a Prince, yet I am also a Princess. Plagg informs me that it is as much a job title as it is anything else,” He said with a rueful smile. Then he bowed to them all. “I must thank you all again for your help, and invite you to join me for your well-earned dinner. But first, I believe introductions are in order?”

He met Marinette’s eyes again, and to her annoyance she felt herself flushing again. The fact that he was a Prince instead of a Princess made no difference to her- none at all! He was still just as much above her station as if he really had been a Princess. She resolved to treat him with kindness and respect, just as she would have treated the princess everyone had supposed him to be. 

“My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, my lord,” she said, bowing again. “And it is as Princess Chloe informed you- I am here by mistake, both my own and the dragon Kaalki’s, who was aiming for my mistress, though I am now the captive of Tikki.” She stepped forward then, and indicated the other two Princesses. Somehow she knew it was her role to introduce them.

“This is Princess Mylene, captive of Mullo, and Princess Rose, captive of Roarr. Princess Chloe you have already spoken with,” she said, folding her hands in front of her. “She is the captive of the dragon Pollen.” 

“A pleasure to make all your acquaintance,” Prince Noir said, bowing once more. His eyes seemed to catch on the stack of dirty platters as he rose again. “I suppose we should at least finish these…”

Now that the kitchen was clear of smoke Marinette looked around, expecting to see a huge stack of platters to wash and dry. But apparently the Prince had been busy in between sending out the food, for the dirty pile was much smaller than she had expected. Her opinion of his good sense rose.

“There aren’t that many left,” she said, smiling a bit stiffly, “so why not wait until after we have eaten? Then we may wash those dishes as well and be done with it all at the same time.”

Prince Noir smiled at her, and it was like the sun had suddenly come out from behind a cloud.

“Once more you speak sense, my lady,” he said, turning that smile on all the others. Marinette could see their postures softening and reminded herself firmly that this was as it should be. He was a Prince, and princes were charming. That was all there was to it- it didn’t really mean anything, especially not when directed at her.

“If you would all care to follow me,” he said, and started for the entrance, rolling his sleeves down as he went. Marinette waited a moment for the Princesses to fall in behind him. Technically she was their equal, but Princess Chloe had made it abundantly clear where she really stood. Not that she really disagreed with Chloe in that respect.

It came as a surprise when Mylene and Rose both came forward to link arms with hers and they all followed after him as a unit. Chloe, of course, merely stuck her nose in the air and hurried to catch up with the Prince. Marinette suppressed a smile when he deftly avoided her attempt to catch his arm.

“Well, that was unexpected,” Mylene mused quietly as they followed. “Do you suppose he really is a captive?”

“He must be,” Marinette said. “Why else would he be here?” But she wondered about it, too. Princes were known for challenging and defeating dragons- not being captured by them.

“Well, I think it’s nice,” Rose proclaimed in her optimistic way. 

Mylene and Marinette both stared at her until she giggled. 

“I like that the dragons don’t seem to care about gender. I knew a lot of girls growing up that would have been happier doing boy things,” she continued, shrugging her delicate shoulders.

Marinette shook her head, but couldn’t suppress a smile. One thing was for sure- this dinner was bound to be a lot more interesting than she had expected it to be.


	7. In Which Another Dinner is Served

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien finds out more about the Princesses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This meal may include fluff

Adrien led the way to the little alcove where the human table was set up. It was a relief to be out of the smoky kitchen and for them to know he was a Prince, not a princess… yet there were drawbacks, too. He now needed to be very careful how he handled himself around his fellow ‘princesses.’

Princess Chloe was already convinced he could only be here to rescue her- or at least acting that way to force him into it. Given how she had literally thrown herself at him and was now trying her best to become a limpet attached to his arm, it was going to take more than a polite ‘no’ to throw her off, too. 

It wasn’t that she wasn’t beautiful- her tiara sparkled and her golden hair shone even in the dim light of the candles he’d placed on the human sized banquet table. Her eyes were limpid pools framed by delicate features, porcelain skin, and rosy cheeks, and her voice as she laughed was soft and pleasant to listen to.

That, however, would be a fair description of each of the princesses, though Princess Mylene’s eyes were brown instead of blue. Her eyes reminded one of gentle woodland creatures instead. But appearances aside, there were personalities to consider, and what he’d seen of Princess Chloe’s was not very admirable. The other two he didn’t know about yet, and the third… but it was a moot point.

He simply wasn’t ready to settle down, especially since he’d just escaped from a very settled life. He didn’t need a  _ princess _ , with her delicate airs and graces, who would expect romance and devotion. No, what he needed was someone who could take care of themselves and introduce him to some of the realities of life- the make-do kind of life he would no doubt encounter once he left the dragons and went out to seek his fortune. Practicalities- that was what he needed to learn.

Inevitably, his eye was drawn toward the only person in their company who was not royal. Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng, though a servant, still exemplified everything he aimed to be- kind, considerate, able to take charge, brave… Adrien smiled involuntarily. It was too bad she wasn’t a princess by birth because she would have lived up to the title, he had no doubt about that.

As he and Princess Chloe approached the table, he decided to make a few adjustments. Instead of leaving the foot of the table empty, he seated Princess Chloe there, in the place of highest honor. That it was also the place furthest removed from him was something he hoped she wouldn’t pick up on.

That left the sides of the table uneven, but if he placed Mlle Dupain-Cheng on his right hand, that would leave an empty space between her and Princess Chloe, which would be good since it was obvious they didn’t get along. He then placed Princess Mylene on his left hand, and Princess Rose between her and Princess Chloe. Princess Rose had seemed the most optimistic and least likely to take offense during the serving of the dinner, so that would also work toward the harmony of the diners.

Once everyone was seated, Adrien hurried back to the kitchen to fetch the dishes he had prepared. There was no soup course, so he brought out a nice beef roast, baked quails, and a spiced mince pie. To supplement these, he served them asparagus in wine sauce, new peas, stewed carrots, and baked squash. For dessert there were more of the tempered chocolates he had made.

He didn’t let them help, shooing Mlle Dupain-Cheng back to her seat when she tried to get up. He thought it only fair, since the ladies had served all the dragons by themselves. Once everyone had a full plate, he served himself and sat down. Everyone waited politely for him as the host to take the first bite, but once he had done so- thus freeing them to eat- he turned to Princess Mylene.

“I understand you are Mullo’s princess?” he asked, waiting until she had finished chewing her first bite.

“Yes, Prince Noir,” she said. She had a pleasant low voice, a bit husky.

He asked all the polite questions about how long it had been since Mullo captured her, and whether there were any prominent knights or Princes seeking to rescue her.

“There is one- a knight. Sir Ivan the Skullcrusher,” she said, blushing and smiling. Adrien was glad to see it- it meant she probably wouldn’t consider him as an alternative husband to her knight. 

“So far Mullo has managed to defeat him, but he always comes back. The others… most of them didn’t come back more than twice. Mullo is quite fast, you see- difficult to defeat- and my Kingdom is small. I didn’t watch the fights at first, but when I met Sir Ivan one day when Mullo was out and couldn’t meet his challenge... I couldn’t stand not to see. The last two times he came  _ so close _ before Mullo knocked him out. Although, it did give me the opportunity to stay by his side until he awoke again.”

“For your sake, I wish him well on his next trial,” Adrien said, wondering how to proceed. His first thought had been to ask if she would put in a good word for him to her dragon, so he could arrange to fight the next challenger himself.

Now that he thought about it, however, he didn’t know if that was such a good idea. Mullo himself, that first night Adrien was with Plagg, had seemed skeptical. And these princesses weren’t like him- they  _ wanted _ to be rescued. The last thing he wanted was for dragon etiquette to decide that since he had defeated the challengers that he had won the princess in question for himself. 

He really did need practice, but perhaps he could start slowly, using some of the swords in Plagg’s treasury and set up a training ground.

A snide remark from Princess Chloe at the foot of the table caught his attention. She was currently critiquing Mlle Dupain-Cheng’s table manners, though Adrien himself had little fault to find. She handled the cutlery a little awkwardly, but she wasn’t dropping food all over herself or eating with her hands after all. She herself seemed to ignore the Princess’ comments, but it was obvious she was still annoyed.

He decided to come to her rescue. Rescuing damsels in social distress was his duty as a good host, after all.

“I understand you were in your princess’ employ, Mademoiselle” he said, when Princess Chloe took her next bite. “That was very brave of you to come to her defense that way. I am only sorry that it has landed you in captivity in her place.”

“I was only there because Princess Kagami needed wedding clothes,” she said. As he’d noticed before, her voice was soft but very sweet, with a not-unpleasing accent-  _ when she’s not giving commands as competently as any battlefield general, _ he thought, smiling.

“I was trained not only as a seamstress but as a designer of clothing,” she continued. “I was not a regular servant, but someone called in for a special occasion. A royal wedding, you know, demands the best.”

Chloe scoffed into her water glass, but Adrien ignored her.

“Judging by your gown, you must be quite talented,” he said. 

To his surprise, she flushed. She’d been quite composed after that first moment after Plagg had aired out the kitchen, and he hadn’t thought a simple compliment on her skills would cause her embarrassment.

“Thank you Prince Noir, but I didn’t make this gown. My design, yes, but… these clothes are not what I am used to. Princess Rose was kind enough to help me dress tonight, and I am not ashamed to admit I needed her help. My home is very far away, you see, and the styles there are quite different. To make a gown like this I would need time to study the structure and work out how to reproduce it, as well as materials and time to do the cutting and the sewing, not to mention the embroidery... and I was only told about this dinner yesterday. But there is a magic wardrobe in my room that is capable of providing whatever I can imagine, so the credit for the construction of the gown must go to the spell on it.”

Adrien’s smile merely widened. “I see I shall have to add honesty to the list of your traits I admire. I’m still giving credit where it is due, though- it’s a lovely gown, and suits you.”

Her flush darkened and she looked at him fully for the first time since his reveal. Adrien was struck by the difference between her eyes and Princess Chloe’s. Both were blue, but hers were not limpid pools. Instead they reminded him of flowers in a field, fresh and sweet, just waiting to be gathered. For a moment he got lost in a memory of picking wild-flowers for his mother… then she turned her gaze back to her plate, ducking her head a little, and the moment passed. Adrien decided it was a good time to pay a little attention to Princess Rose, and the meal continued.

Unlike the sometimes interminable state dinners he’d endured at the Agrestian court, the ladies finished eating quickly, though they seemed inclined to linger over the remaining chocolates. But Adrien had an answer for that. He had made up a little packet of chocolate for each princess to take with her when they all left. As they rose from the table, he brought them out and presented one to each princess. 

Princess Chloe was last, and she simpered as she took the little bag. “Oooh, Prince Noir! These chocolates are sweet, but not as sweet as you. I almost feel I should give you a kiss for your thoughtfulness.”

“That won’t be necessary, Princess,” Adrien said, taking a step back out of reach. “It was my pleasure to give these to you all.”

She pouted briefly, then yawned behind her hand. “Oh goodness! Pray excuse me, but I am simply exhausted! Pollen never keeps me up this late, and I am afraid I am unused to it. It’s one thing for those of us who are used to waiting on others, but I...”

Adrien narrowed his eyes. It wasn’t hard to figure out that she was trying to get out of washing the rest of the dishes, though her dig at Mlle Dupain-Cheng went unnoticed, since she and the others had already cleared the table and were in the kitchen. But since he didn’t really want Chloe to stay, he decided to play along.

“I couldn’t think of asking you to stay and help after all you’ve already done,” he said, pretending to be grave and concerned. “But please, take a candle from the table to light your way. Good night, Princess.”

And with that, he turned and went to join the others in the kitchen. It was a little rude, perhaps, but he didn’t want to get roped into escorting her back to her dragon’s caves. For one thing, he didn’t know the way, and for another- no thank you, not for all the gold in his father’s kingdom.

The scene he found in the kitchen instantly raised his spirits again. Princess Rose was washing, Princess Mylene was rinsing, and Mlle Dupain-Cheng was drying, and between them they were making short work of it. All three wore voluminous aprons which Adrien had never seen before, and Princess Rose and Mlle Dupain-Cheng were teasing Princess Mylene about Sir Ivan. For her part, Princess Mylene blushed, but did not deny that she was already attached to him.

Grinning, Adrien decided his role was to bring the dirty dishes closer to Rose and to make sure the Cauldron of Plenty was clean and ready for its next use. However, when he turned away after depositing the last small stack of platters in the sink, Mlle Dupain-Cheng was there, holding up yet another apron.

“Thank you,” he said, putting it on and tying it. “Wherever did you find these?” 

Mlle Dupain-Cheng simply pointed to a cupboard in the corner that Adrien hadn’t looked in yet. It was next to the cupboard that held the tablecloths and dish towels, which made a certain amount of sense, and he wondered why he hadn’t thought of getting an apron out earlier. He thanked her again with a smile, and she shyly smiled back before turning away. 

Adrien got busy on the cauldron with a scrub brush and a small pot of hot water and soap from the sink. The first time he’d used the cauldron, he hadn’t known it needed cleaning afterwards- it was magical after all, why would it need cleaning? But then the next time he asked it for something, the food came out looking a little burned and tasted funny. Plagg had taken pity on him and explained, and so Adrien had learned how to scrub.

He was interrupted twice for a bow and a smile as the two princesses left, but he was distracted and honestly thought Mlle Dupain-Cheng had left with one of them. So when he done and turned around to find her still drying the last of the dishes, he was startled and dropped the scrub brush and pail, spilling dirty water all over the floor. 

Mlle Dupain-Cheng jumped at the sudden loud noise, almost losing the plate she was holding again, and Adrien flushed.

“I beg your pardon. I had assumed you left with Princess Rose or Mylene, and I was startled to see you.”

“The work isn’t finished yet, your highness,” she said, setting down the plate on a stack of clean ones.

“But surely you didn’t need to stay for these last few dishes- I could have dried them myself.” Suiting his words to action, he scooped up another dish towel and picked up one of the last two cups to dry.

“And break another set of china?” she dared to tease, looking at him sideways though her cheeks were pink. “The King said the Queen had complained about the noise.”

Adrien set down the cup and leaned against the counter, scratching the back of his head. “Well, what can I say- I was raised in a palace. I can handle eating and drinking from them, but soapy water makes porcelain slippery. But I have been getting better, I swear! See? Not a single crack,” he said, holding up the undamaged cup proudly.

“Yes, but you didn’t wash that cup did you?” she pointed out, hanging her dish towel on a hook and taking off her apron.

Adrien hung up his own dish towel and began opening cupboard doors as an excuse not to answer that. But he had a feeling the back of his neck betrayed him anyway. 

Working together, everything was soon put back in its place, though Adrien did have a moment of panic when a stack of plates threatened to tip over in his hands as he reached up to put them on a higher shelf.

“Thank you again for staying,” he said, as they left the kitchen together. There were still two candles burning in the candelabra on the table, though they were getting short. He plucked out the longer one and handed it to Mlle Dupain-Cheng.

She took it, but her smile was stiff as she said, “It was my whole reason for being here, your highness.”

Adrien’s smile wilted a little. “You don’t have to do that all the time, you know- calling me ‘your highness,’ and ‘my lord.’ Call me Prince Noir- or better, just ‘Noir.’” One corner of his mouth turned up into a half smile. “All that formality becomes wearing after a while, and there’s no one here to insist on it. Besides, I was going to ask you for some cooking lessons, and surely a teacher has a right to call her student by his name?” He really hoped she didn’t know royal tutors often insisted on strict formality in lessons.

Her eyes widened in shock. “Oh, I… well. I don’t know if Tikki would agree, or Stompp for that matter…” she said, hesitating.

“Hm,” Adrien hummed considering. “Well, perhaps I’ll have to ask Plagg to put in a good word for me. Or I could visit tomorrow and charm her into agreeing! But for now, good night, my lady.” 

He bowed. When he straightened back up she was frowning a little, as if confused. But she bowed to him in that odd way of hers, with the hands held palm to palm in front of her with candle between them, and then she left without saying anything more.

He really hoped she wouldn’t continue to put up a wall of formality between them, especially if she agreed to give him cooking lessons. Of all the humans he’d met here, she was the one he wanted as a friend. In fact, if he’d had the slightest idea where the King’s caves were located, he would have offered to walk her back to them. Just to be courteous and friendly, of course- no need to consider protection when she was a dragon’s princess.

But for now he was left alone, so Adrien simply sighed and took his own candle to bed. He didn’t usually remember his dreams, but that night he dreamed of fields full of wild-flowers.


	8. In Which King Gabriel Deals with Things- Sort Of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Gabriel reacts to Adrien's disappearance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the long time between chapters. I had two WIPs, but I just put Land and Sea on hiatus- because frankly, I'm not happy with my progress on either of them. So, I should be updating this a lot more often now that it is my sole focus!

King Gabriel shuffled through the mounting reports on his desk, frowning and grumbling to himself. There had been giant raids in the north, reports of witch activity in the eastern forest, sickness that might become a plague in the south, and- perhaps most distressing of all- dragon sightings in the west. Aside from the giant raids, there had as yet been little actual damage done, but he knew it was only a matter of time. He could afford to pay for the damage the giant had done out of the treasury, but if there were also going to be burned or bewitched crops, and a workforce too sick or scared to work, then Agrestia as a whole was going to suffer. And it had only been a week, so far.

“Sancoeur!” Gabriel barked. “Has no one found my idiot son yet?”

Nathalie Sancoeur, his female secretary- really, Gabriel prided himself on his forward thinking ways- appeared at the door to his office, severely and soberly dressed as usual. She had another stack of paper and parchment in her hands which she laid on his desk before retreating the standard two paces and folding her hands in front of her.

“I’m afraid not, sir King. There seems to be no trace of him on any of the principal roads out of the Kingdom. Without knowing which direction he left in, it won’t be easy to predict where he might have gone.”

Gabriel took a moment to slump in his chair, sighing in irritation. “What was he  _ thinking?” _

It was a rhetorical question, and Ms. Sancoeur wisely stayed silent on the subject. Not that he would have listened to her- at his own request, she had been put in charge of keeping his son so occupied that he had no time to think of starting off on some ridiculous quest these last few years, but as a mere secretary she was hardly qualified to voice an opinion on Adrien’s mental state.

“Our Kingdom only stands so long as the members of the royal house stay where they should-  _ at home,” _ he grumbled. “He should know that by now.”

A small sound made him look up at his secretary. She blinked at him blandly and ventured to speak.

“I’m not at all sure he knows about the compact, sir King. Did you ever tell him about it yourself?”

Gabriel frowned. “No… but he’s been tutored in the history of our Kingdom since before he first told me of his foolish dream of ‘going questing.’ Even if it was never explicitly stated, he should have  _ known.” _

There was no outward sign of her disagreement on this point, but he couldn’t help feeling judged anyway. So he had, not  _ forgotten _ , but... simply been  _ too busy _ , to tell his son about the Fairy Compact that ensured their kingdom’s prosperity. He had been focused on his duty as King- as all Kings should be! 

By all rights Prince Adrien should have felt the same. He had had Adrien raised to consider duty above all else, just as he himself had been. And for years that had seemed to work- there were no more mumblings about ‘adventure’ or references to the foolishness that  _ other _ kingdoms let their princes get up to, so Gabriel had felt the danger was past. Yet, when faced with the not unpleasant duty to marry and beget an heir for himself, Adrien had run away. Clearly, mistakes had been made.

They couldn’t be laid at  _ Gabriel’s _ door, though. He had been an exemplary role model as King! 

Ms. Sancoeur discreetly cleared her throat, recalling him from his thoughts.

“I know it’s not on your schedule, sir King, but earlier this morning, some… Persons came to the palace, seeking audience with you.”

Gabriel resumed his habitual ram-rod straight posture, setting the spy reports to the side to read over later. Perhaps there would be a clue hidden in them that the eye of a King would make clear.

“I really don’t have time for audiences today.” 

A pregnant silence made him look up again. “Unless there is some reason I should  _ make _ time?” he inquired, irritably.

Ms. Sancoeur remained impassive. “I believe them to be bounty hunters, sir King, though they don’t wear the same uniform you have mandated for bounty hunters working within your borders. As your own resources in that area have not borne fruit, yet,” she said diplomatically, “I thought you might at least consider meeting with them. Only to determine whether they are likely to succeed or not, of course.”

King Gabriel sighed. “I suppose you have a point. Very well…” he trailed off, locating and scanning the daily schedule of his obligations. “Let’s move the meeting with the heads of guilds to tomorrow- that should be enough time to meet with these bounty hunters. And let the criers know to announce a general audience and court in three days time. I need to address all this,” he said, gesturing to the masses of papers on his desk, “and calm the populace.”

“Of course, sir King. Will that be all for now?”

“Yes, yes, you may go,” he said, sinking back into his chair again. 

She turned and left, and Gabriel got up to pace. As usual, he ended up in front of the portrait of his wife. Queen Emilie had been lovely and gentle, but still lively enough to capture his attention, and when he had first met her, he had fallen deeply in love. It had been a mistake, of course, for he had soon discovered her to be romantic and flighty in nature. She had always been impatient with the orderly structure of his life, urging him to forgo his responsibilities in the name of ‘enjoying life.’ Far too often he had yielded, in those first years when they were newly married. He couldn’t truthfully say he had  _ not _ enjoyed the rebellion, but he had never felt that the inevitable guilt and scrambling to meet his obligations was worth a few hours of mere pleasure.

When Adrien was born her attentions had been effectively divided, and he had largely resumed his previous habits of strict attention to duty. She had still tempted him to irresponsibility from time to time, but not as often. And then when she had died- regrettably in childbirth, with neither mother nor babe surviving- he had finally been free of her gently encroaching ways. 

“This is your fault, you know,” he said to the painted face. He often talked to the portrait, whenever he needed to express opinions best not heard by anyone else. “You were beautiful, but… I feel sure that if I had chosen the Princess of Albemarle like my father wanted me to, my son would not have inherited any romantic tendencies. I tried to rectify that, you know. I made sure all his tutors and instructors emphasized duty over every other concern. But now look… he’s run away, in the most childish and irresponsible manner, and all the people of our Kingdom are going to suffer for it. And it wasn’t even a large test of his character! I merely asked him to choose a bride! That’s not asking much, is it?”

The painted Queen Emilie smiled passively down at him, speechless and inanimate as always. Yet, as with his secretary, he felt the weight of her judgement. 

“It’s not as if I was going to choose his bride for him,” he growled, crossing his arms. “I was merely going to make sure he could not make the same mistake I did.”

He blinked, mildly shocked by his own words, and briefly met the painted eyes. “I apologize. Of course, marrying you wasn’t… well. I was in love with you. But that ended up being the problem, you see? You were distracting. A King, and particularly a King of Agrestia, cannot afford distractions! They  _ always _ lead to ruin- as evidenced now, when the Kingdom has been thrown into chaos by Adrien’s defection!” He sighed. “I just didn’t want him to experience that inner battle between duty and desire. Far better for him to marry a practical sort of princess- someone who will know her place and not… not get in the way. But he is enough like you that I knew he would pick someone unsuitable if left entirely to his own devices. Not that you can truly understand- you are just a painting. You can’t actually judge me or offer advice. Not anymore.”

Gabriel turned away. It was good to unburden himself from time to time, but it always left him feeling uncertain in his own mind. Thankfully, he could refocus on his duties to clear away the uncomfortable feelings. He returned to his desk to compile a list of questions to ask the unknown bounty hunters. He wasn’t convinced they could help, but if he wanted to preserve his Kingdom Adrien would need to be found, and perhaps something would come to light simply talking to these people.

\----

“Sir King, one of the outkingdom bounty hunters has returned,” Ms. Sancoeur said later that afternoon, knocking on his office door. Gabriel looked up, mildly irritated. He had just started the requisite paperwork for releasing funds to the towns affected by the giant.

“I just talked to them,” he protested. “They can’t possibly expect to speak to me again, especially when they can’t have anything to report. I only gave them leave to search the grounds an hour ago!”

“Yes, sir,” Ms. Sancoeur said, backing away. “I’ll try to fit them into your schedule for tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” 

Gabriel focused back on the papers in front of him, dipping his pen in the inkwell. Suddenly the doors to his office burst open, and one of the bounty hunters strode brazenly in. As before, she wore weathered brown leather pants and tunic, a sword strapped to her hip, and an obviously magical staff slung across her back. In her hand she carried, of all things, a frog.

“What is the meaning of this?” Gabriel said, standing up in indignation. “Ms. Sancoeur!”

“Oh, don’t blame that poor woman, I’m more than a match for her,” the woman smirked. “Or the rest of your guards, for that matter. Besides, I thought you wanted to find your son? Or is your precious pride- oh, excuse me, your  _ schedule _ \- more important than that?”

Gabriel flushed. “I am the King, and I have responsibilities to my people. Responsibilities  _ beyond _ worrying about my errant son. Responsibilities that I cannot meet if I am to be  _ constantly interrupted.” _

The woman rolled her eyes, cocking a hip. “Look, I figured out where your son went. Do you want to know or not?”

Gabriel squinted at her. “I find it difficult to believe that, after so short a time, you have discovered that when my own investigators have failed to do so after a week’s worth of time.”

“Well, all I can say is that they didn’t know where to start looking.” She shrugged, still unbearably smug. “So, are you willing to pay for the information, or should I just kill this frog and go on my merry way?”

Gabriel scoffed. “What can a  _ frog _ possibly have to do with my son’s disappearance?”

“Hey!” a deep, croaky voice suddenly spoke up. “That ain’t very nice! We can’t all choose what we look like, ya know?” 

Incredulous, Gabriel stared as the frog in the woman’s hand cocked it’s head to look up at her. “Mind you, I ain’t too happy about your little threat there, either, missy,” it said. “You said I could have all the flies I wanted if I told you what I told the Prince.”

“Apologies,” she said. “It’s nothing personal, of course, but I have to protect my business. If he won’t pay me for the information, and knows that you have it to give for free, well… I still need to eat, you see. But I promise that if he  _ won’t _ pay, I will personally collect the juiciest flies I can find for your last meal.”

The frog considered that offer. “Yeah, okay. Who knows? Maybe I’ll come back as a dragon!”

“That’s very possible,” the woman said, nodding seriously- as though the entire exchange wasn’t ridiculous. “But dragons are well known for hoarding treasure, and if you really want to come back as a dragon, it would be in your best interests to help me convince him to pay.”

“Oh yeah! I can do that!” the frog said, settling back down. “Hey, King-ey! Pay the lady, hey?”

The both looked at him expectantly. Gabriel shut his mouth and tried to regain control over the conversation.

“Of course I will pay,” he said.  _ “For factual information on my son’s whereabouts. _ I am a man of my word after all, but I remind you that you have yet to actually tell me anything worthwhile. A talking frog is… unusual, to be sure, but hardly proof that you know where my son went.”

“Sheesh, I can see why the Prince wanted to leave,” the frog muttered. “You’d find more joy at a funeral.”

The woman’s lips twitched. “Go ahead and tell him what you told me, little friend.”

“Alright… don’t feel like it’s really fair to the Prince, though. He wanted to get away, so… alright, alright, I’ll tell!” it said, after the woman poked it with a sharp fingernail. “I sent ‘im to the dragons. There, ya happy now?”

“I most certainly am not happy!” Gabriel burst out. “You sent… you? To the dragons?” He glared at the bounty hunter. “Am I seriously supposed to believe that a  _ talking frog _ sent my only son and heir to the most dangerous of magical beasts?”

“Hey! I resent that! And I might be a frog, but I got enough magic to be able to tell when someone’s unhappy, and that Prince was  _ really _ unhappy. I mean, come on, you should’ve given the kid a break- all he wanted to do was go have an adventure before his life was over, ya know? Besides, being captured by a dragon is a perfectly respectable thing to do.” The frog shifted slightly. “Ya know,” it temporized, “if they didn’t just eat him, of course. It’s more of a Princess thing, so they might-a gotten a little upset to find a Prince at the meeting spot instead of a Princess.”

“He had  _ responsibilities,” _ Gabriel growled. “And if I find that he really  _ has _ been eaten by a dragon…” he took a shaky breath, leaning on his desk.

“Relax,” the bounty hunter said. “Dragons are smart- they wouldn’t eat a Prince that hasn’t challenged or insulted them, and I’m pretty sure your boy was looking to stay alive for a little longer.”

“Oh yeah- he was real polite when he was talkin’ ta me!” the frog piped up. “Ya don’t got nothin’ to worry about.”

“Where, exactly, did you send him?” Gabriel breathed, trying not to let his temper overwhelm him. It still seemed utterly ridiculous to him, but he had to admit that the possibility of Adrien utilizing the abilities of talking animals hadn’t even occurred to him. And it certainly sounded as if the frog had actually spoken with Adrien. He couldn’t ignore this, no matter how much he wanted to- it was the first solid lead on his son’s whereabouts since his disappearance.

“Well, I only know the one place where there’s a spell-road, and that one goes ta the Mountains of Morning.” The frog, though lacking shoulders, still managed to shrug. “What can I say? I’m not a very experienced Helpful Animal, yet.”

“It was your first try!” the bounty hunter said, gently stroking its back. “And you succeeded, too, so I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

Gabriel growled quietly. “And how, exactly, am I supposed to get him back from _ dragons?” _

The bounty hunter smirked again. “I’ve had some dealings with dragons- some of them will pay for information on the location of a certain priceless object, you know. So I know that Princesses are always running away. So, all you have to do is send me in as a spy- as soon as I’ve located your son, I’ll arrange for our escape, and the dragons will simply assume we ran away together. They shouldn’t come after us- after a certain time period, it’s considered gauche to retrieve a princess that managed to escape.”

Gabriel felt his rage dying down. He was still going to read Adrien the lecture of a lifetime when this was all over with, but the bounty hunter did seem to have a solid plan and wasn’t afraid to go up against dragons.

“Very well.” He sat back down at his desk and unlocked a drawer, pulling a standard treasury note from it. Taking up his pen, he said, “This is a note to the Treasurer, directing him to give you payment in the agreed upon amount for the information. I am also adding a third of the reward money, so you can outfit yourself properly for your mission. You will, of course, be liable to repay that if you should fail.” He looked up then. “I am simply waiting for the correct name to write on the recipient’s line.”

The bounty hunter smiled, bowing slightly. “Lila Rossi at your service, sir King. And don’t worry- I’ll bring Prince Adrien back to your loving arms.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *snrk* "Loving arms" indeed. I have to admit, I rather like Lila as a bounty hunter- I think it would suit her character and give her everything she craves- attention, money, and the need to outwit her chosen prey.


	9. In Which Several Plans are Made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so... It has been FAR too long waiting for this update, but I had trouble figuring out the right sequence, and then the weather here in Texas decided to make everything difficult. But everything's thawed out now, and I finally figured out the best way forward. Also, I'm already halfway through the next chapter!

Lila grimaced at the heap of broken and crumbling boards that, according to the frog, should have been an abandoned shack. 

“Well,” she said, “I suppose the first clue should have been the fact that none of the temptations you said I should ignore actually appeared.”

The frog, which was sitting on her shoulder, licked an eye.

“Sorry lady. It’s been around a long time, this spell-road… probably the magic just finally ran out.”

“Let’s hope it didn’t run out while our missing prince was using it, then. If it did, he could be any _ where, _ any _ when, _ or even vanished out of existence entirely. And I doubt King Gabriel will pay for the stunning lack of results  _ that _ would leave me with.” 

Lila sighed, then set her jaw. She’d contracted for this, and she was going to see it through- even if that meant walking all the way to the Mountains of Morning- which, on foot, was going to be a journey of at least a month, and probably more if she was being realistic. However, the advance on the contract meant she could afford to hire at least a cart and horse to take her where she needed to go. Or… her eyes narrowed in thought for a moment, then a crafty smile spread over her face as a plan formed in her mind. She did love it when she found ways to make others do all the work.

\----

Marinette was glad to get up the next morning and put on her simple robes again. The dress of the night before had been beautiful and was surprisingly easy to wear, but she really preferred her own clothes. Mixing so familiarly with the others- and especially with a Prince- had left her unsettled, so it was with relief that she got ready for a day in the big kitchen after eating her own breakfast. It would be nice to get back to cooking and cleaning, and not have to worry about minding her manners with royalty. 

She was half-afraid to find Prince Noir waiting for the cooking lessons he had mentioned so casually, but he didn’t make an appearance all morning. Or that afternoon or evening. In fact, Marinette enjoyed a whole week without encountering him again, and had just convinced herself that he had either forgotten, or no longer wished to have cooking lessons, when he suddenly reappeared one morning, leaning up against the wall outside the entrance to the big kitchen.

“Good morning, my lady!” Prince Noir said, standing straight and offering her a bow. “Plagg agreed to let me take cooking lessons twice a week, so I came to see what days would work best for you.”

Marinette sighed. It really was unfair that he was so… so... She couldn’t think of the right word. She shouldn’t let him affect her- after all, there could be nothing between them, only... his hair shone like the brightest of gold thread, and his smile made her think of a sunny day, and it did  _ not _ help that he had already been so kind to her. She could feel her own objections melting away, despite everything she knew that told her to keep him at arm’s length at the very least. She gathered her will.

“I’m not sure-” she began, but just then she heard a great crash that sounded like all the pots in the big kitchen hitting the floor at once. Without thinking, she rushed inside to see what was the matter.

She found Stompp looming threateningly over one of the junior dragons- one who had just recently decided on a name and gender (‘recent’ meaning fifty years ago, before Marinette had even been born). Marinette had been surprised to discover his name sounded at least a little familiar to her. Xuppu was currently cringing before the head cook, and it wasn’t hard to realize that it was his mistake that had caused the crash. There were empty pots surrounding him, and the back half of a cow, that had already been deboned and spitted, was  _ also _ laying on the floor just a foot away from the roasting fire. Easy to understand what had happened there.

Marinette cleared her throat, putting both hands on her hips.

Stompp glared at her. 

“What do you think you are doing?” Marinette asked.

“This clumsy fool made me drop-!”

“That is  _ no _ reason to loom over him like you’re going to bite his head off!” Marinette scolded. “He made a mistake. It’s not even that big of a mistake, and the cow  _ isn’t _ ruined, it can be rinsed off and it will be just fine once it’s roasted and you know it!”

Smoke started issuing from the corners of Stompp’s mouth. “And just what gives a  _ human _ the right to scold  _ me?” _

_ “I am Chief Cook!”  _ Marinette said firmly. “Your King herself named me that. And you  _ know _ I have the skill for the position, so you have no excuse for rudeness!”

Stompp backed off and clacked his jaw irritably, but he stopped smoking all the same. Marinette nodded.

“Xuppu, pick up the cow and rinse it under the waterfall outside. Hold it under there for at least a minute, mind! I’ll get to work rewashing those pots.”

She didn’t presume to tell Stompp what to do, deciding that pulling rank on him that way was enough for one morning. However, she had forgotten about Prince Noir.

“And just what are  _ you _ doing here?” she heard Stompp ask, and whirled around- clearly, this morning was  _ not _ the time- but she was too late.

“I’m here to get cooking lessons!” Noir replied with a bright grin.

_ “Oh _ no!” Stompp declared, eyeing the prince balefully. “I know all about your clumsiness from both Plagg and Mullo, and you won’t be breaking any of  _ my _ dishes. It’s hard enough getting them in the right sizes in the first place without some butter-fingered prince coming around to break them all. If you want to teach him cooking,  _ Chief, _ that’s your business, but you won’t do it in any kitchen of mine!”

And with that Stompp stomped away, grumbling to himself. Marinette turned to the prince, who was rubbing the back of his neck with a rueful look.

“Come along,” she said, making for the entrance, if for no other reason than to get Prince Noir away from the irritated dragon cook. Once they were back in the passage, she turned to him, steeling herself against his innate charm.

“You’d better go,” she said firmly. “Stompp is already irritated and I’ve never… put my authority above his like that, so I’d better stay here and not run off. I don’t want him thinking I will back down the moment I’m challenged.”

“Of course not,” Prince Noir said. If Marinette had cared to look, she could have seen the gleam of admiration in his eyes. “When should I come back?”

Marinette honestly thought about saying ‘never’ because, really, who was  _ she _ to be teaching a prince anything? But…

“Why do you want to learn how to cook so badly? Isn’t being a prince and having servants to cook for you enough?” It came out much sharper than she’d intended. And to be honest, it was also unfair. She’d seen enough the night of the banquet to know he wasn’t that kind of royal. She sighed. “I’m sorry, your highness. That was uncalled for.”

Prince Noir didn’t answer for a moment longer than was comfortable, and Marinette felt her shame redouble, feeling that she had well and truly ruined any kind of friendly feeling he might have harbored for her.  _ Not that it matters, _ she told herself sternly.  _ He’s a prince and you are not a princess. _

“I have been waited on my whole life, it’s true,” he finally said, in a softer tone. “My father’s idea of teaching me to be a Prince and a man was stuffing me full of facts and figures, and teaching me how to order others around. But I came here to leave that life behind. My goal is to go questing, eventually- to hunt out the just causes of the world and fight for them, instead of sitting uselessly at home. And I don’t want to drag servants around with me just to keep my clothes clean and polish my armor and cook for me- the kind of life I want is going to be dangerous, and I won’t force anyone else to participate. But I can’t do anything until I can take care of myself. So, will you please help me?” 

His humble plea touched her like nothing else would have. He truly was nothing like Princess Chloe- spoiled, selfish, and entitled. He was a good man, someone who knew he had shortcomings and was trying to fix them. Someone who obviously valued the lives of the people around him, instead of taking them for granted. She could appreciate and respect that- and if it also caused a little flame to light deep within her, well…. that could be her little secret. Which didn’t mean she wasn’t going to take advantage of an opportunity to get help with her own project.

She had been reading about unicorns in Tikki’s library, and the more she read, the more she realized she needed help in obtaining the unicorn water she needed. Prince Noir just happened to be someone who probably had the skills to help her.

“Are you any good with a sword?” she asked.

Prince Noir blinked at the apparent non-sequitur.

“I’m a little rusty, but I’ve been practicing lately- Plagg is letting me use some of his treasure to build up my skills again.”

“Good,” Marinette said, nodding decisively. “Here’s my offer: I need unicorn water. If you get me some, I will teach you to cook, starting with good, plain food, and working up from there. Are we agreed?”

“Unicorn water, huh?” he said, lifting a hand to his chin. His smile grew a little as he thought it over. “I suppose that’s fair.” Prince Noir grinned, bowing with his hand over his heart. “It would be both a pleasure and an honor, my lady.” 

Marinette’s heart gave a little thump, and then sped up.

“A-alright the… then,” she managed. She took a deep breath. “Here is your first assignment. Tonight, before you go to bed, boil some water in a kettle and pour it over two cups of dry oats in a small pot. Add two pinches of salt and a handful of dried fruit- whatever kind you have. Stir it a couple of times, and then put a lid on it. Let it sit overnight and bring it with you tomorrow morning. We’ll have it for breakfast and see how you did.”

His grin morphed into one of childish delight, and Marinette’s heart did another painful somersault. He repeated her instructions word for word, and she nodded before sending him off. As she turned back toward the big kitchen, she had to steady herself on the doorframe for a moment. Then she sternly told herself to stop being silly and got on with the day’s work.

\----

Adrien hurried back to Plagg’s caves, already plotting and planning. He would have to look up maps of the surrounding areas, and choose the best weapons and armor (not to mention getting Plagg’s permission both to use them, and to be away from the cave for as much as a day… but most importantly, he wanted to do a test run of that recipe Mlle. Dupain-Cheng had given him. It seemed simple enough, but by now he knew that even simple things were all too easy to mess up.

So the first thing he did once he got back was to start some water boiling and measure out the ingredients. He was supposed to let it sit overnight, which meant it could stand to be ignored for several hours at least. He could work on other things while he waited to taste it. While the water heated, he went and rounded up all the maps Plagg currently owned.

He poured the boiling water over the ingredients- after some dithering, he’d decided to put the salt and dried fruit in before the water- stirred a few times, then covered it and set it to the side of the hearth. Then he started perusing the maps. Unfortunately, most of them were treasure maps- showing the locations of places where precious items were buried or hidden, and usually including a rhyme or couplet or a simple list of clues on where it was or how to find it. Most of those were not located anywhere in the Mountains of Morning, so they were of very limited use to him. Nor did they show the locations of beasts or magical creatures that were not pertinent to the quest for the treasure.

After unrolling the last map and having no luck with any of them, he decided he would have to wait and ask Plagg. In the meantime, he had a new incentive to practice his sparring.

He’d set up a tiny salle in a small, currently untenanted cave that was next door to Plagg’s. Plagg had offered to let him use the more expensive enchanted armor as targets, since the spells on it would largely prevent damage, but Adrien had decided not to. Since Plagg didn’t claim that cave, he didn’t want to leave his treasures lying around in case they got stolen, and he didn’t want to have to cart the things over and back every time he wanted to practice. So for now he had set up a length of tree trunk and stuffed an old sack with dirt and leaves, and those made perfectly adequate targets while he was getting his skills back. Eventually he would have to find someone to spar with, but by then perhaps he would actually have enough survival skills to leave, so he didn’t worry about it too much. Perhaps he could tag along with one of the knights who actually managed to defeat his dragon and win his princess? No doubt one of them would be well informed on the current on-going quests in the area.

He warmed himself up, then went through all the exercises he could remember, eventually moving on to attempting actual blows against the targets he’d set up, making sure his technique was solid. He couldn’t afford to be sloppy, especially not now.

When he was through, he cleaned himself up and went to look through Plagg’s magical weapons. He wanted something that would give him an edge in a fight- not a weapon that would make him the best fighter in the world, because then he wouldn’t improve, but something that would keep him, and anyone else he was with, alive if he came up against something beyond his skill level.

Plagg found him there, deliberating between three different enchanted swords. One made him the best swordsman in the world for five minutes after first drawing the weapon, the second increased his speed, and the third made it impossible to miss hitting something. Those were all good and useful spells without giving him too much of an unfair advantage, and each of them were also good quality blades with not a speck of rust or a single nick. Still, Adrien found himself hesitating.

“There you are,” Plagg rumbled. “What are you doing?”

Adrien greeted him absently. “I’m debating which of these three swords would be best to take with me on a quest.”

“Planning to rob me and run off so soon? I’d have thought you weren’t ready yet,” Plagg responded mildly.

Adrien laughed. “No, no! But Mlle. Dupain-Cheng said she would only teach me cooking if I helped her to get some unicorn water. Unicorns don’t live around here, which means we’ll have to travel, and there are bound to be other dangerous creatures around once we get to an area where there  _ are _ unicorns. I’ve been practicing, and my skills and strength are returning, but I think it would be just as well to have an ace up my sleeve.”

“Hmmmm.” Plagg considered all three of the swords in front of Adrien before reaching out and snagging a completely different sword with a black leather scabbard. “This one.”

Adrien raised his eyebrows at the black dragon. “That one?”

“Definitely.”

Adrien took the scabbard gingerly. “I don’t know… it seems a bit… overkill. Besides, wasn’t this enchanted by an evil sorcerer?”

Plagg shrugged. “What does that matter? It’s not like it steals souls or anything, and you still have to actually hit your target for the spell to work, so there’s always the chance of them avoiding it. But if you  _ do  _ need an edge, you’re probably already in a situation that needs to end quickly… and this sword is the most likely to eliminate the threat.”

“Yeah, permanently,” Adrien remarked, rather dryly. 

Plagg shrugged again. “No more permanent than dealing an ordinary fatal wound would be- unless you’re going to make a habit of carrying healing potions you intend to use on your enemies instead of yourself, which would be an awful waste of a good healing potion in my opinion. Besides, you as the wielder have the choice whether to activate the sword’s power or not. These other blades you were considering don’t give you that option.”

“True.” Adrien stood holding the sword for another moment before nodding. “Alright, I’ll take this one then. Thank you! And thank you for letting me borrow something.”

“Don’t mention it. And if it’s unicorns you’re looking for, your best bet is the Enchanted Forest. They’re hard to find even there, but they are  _ really  _ hard to find outside of it. Now, I’m in the mood for a good cheese, do we have any bleu left?”

Adrien sighed and picked up the three unclaimed swords to put them back in the rack, tucking the black scabbarded sword under his arm.

“No, you ate the last of the ripe bleu yesterday. But the first of the camemberts is finally ready- or should be according to the notes.”

Plagg’s head rose and his eyes brightened. “Wonderful! I’ve been looking forward to trying it.”

“Well, from the smell alone, I think you’ll enjoy it,” Adrien said, patting the dragon’s shoulder and suppressing a shudder. 


	10. In Which Adrien gets his first cooking lesson, and a Quest is begun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien and Marinette are in denial about their feelings, but they work together anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meant to post this last night, but then I got caught up with something else.

To Marinette’s dismay, though not much to her surprise, given his enthusiasm the day before, Prince Noir showed up very early the next morning. Early enough that Marinette had just awoken and barely had time to dress herself, much less braid her hair properly, so she just grabbed what came to hand and dressed mechanically before going to answer his call. As a result, the suddenly wide-eyed look on his face when she came into view made her suspect that she had accidentally put on something with a stain on it. That didn’t make much sense since her enchanted wardrobe usually took care of such things without a fuss, but she was still a little muzzy-headed with sleep.

“Prince Noir, welcome,” she said, bowing in her customary manner. Her loose hair hung around her face, and she blushed as her mind woke up, embarrassed for him to see her like this.

“My lady,” he said, bowing in return. He sounded oddly reverent, but she focused on the small pot beneath his arm.

“Oh good, you remembered,” she said faintly, turning and leading him back to her own little kitchen. “I’m sorry about my appearance,” she continued. “I’m not quite ready for the day.”

“Please don’t apologize,” he said after clearing his throat, and she winced.  _ That bad, then. _

“It’s alright, you don’t have to be nice. I’ll put on something more appropriate- it won’t take long.” 

Marinette surreptitiously looked down at herself as she spoke, curious to see what she  _ had _ put on… only to blush harder as she realized it was a very pretty chinese style dress made of silk, with a pink skirt and a wrapped white jacket with flowing sleeves, embroidered with cherry blossoms. The jacket was confined with a wide black sash and tied with a pink cord. She couldn’t imagine where it had come from- except, she had dreamed about making something just like it. The wardrobe must have taken the design from her mind when she got dressed.

Well, while it was very pretty, it was completely unsuitable for a cooking lesson. When they got to her kitchen, she unceremoniously told the prince to put his pot on the hearth and retreated to her bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind her.

First, to deal with the wardrobe.

“Now look,” she said, addressing it directly, “I know you are used to providing pretty gowns for Princesses, and I understand that you might miss that. But I am  _ not _ a Princess, and what I wear needs to reflect my station!”

The doors of the wardrobe clattered a little, as if it disagreed with her. 

“This is a very pretty dress, and thank you for making it for me,” she said again, in a softer voice. “I promise, when the day is done, or if Tikki ever gives me a day off, I’ll ask for something like this again. I’m a seamstress myself- I know the joy of making pretty clothes, and I don’t want to deprive you of that entirely. But for right now, could you please give me something more suited to a cooking lesson? Something that isn’t going to stain, with sleeves tight enough they won’t be dragged through the ingredients?”

The wardrobe rattled again before one of the doors creaked reluctantly open. Marinette peeked inside and saw plain, royal blue robes like those she had worn nearly every day since coming here. She smiled and stroked the wood of the door briefly.

“Thank you,” she said, then quickly changed. It didn’t take long to braid her hair either, though she didn’t pin it up, just tied a pink ribbon around the end.

When she came back out into the kitchen, Prince Noir was seated at the table staring at his clasped hands.

“Again, I’m very sorry for the delay,” she said, then giggled as he jumped and shot to his feet, loudly scraping the chair legs on the floor.

“Not a problem!” he said. “You looked… very lovely.”

“Yes, the dress was pretty,” she admitted. “I wish I had time to make something like it myself, or a reason to wear it for that matter… but it would only get ruined if I wore that for a cooking lesson. Now- let’s see how well you did! Would you get two bowls out of that cupboard, please?”

She pointed to the cupboard above the counter that was beside the sink. The Prince moved around to get out the bowls, while Marinette pulled a jug of milk out of the stone cupboard and then got two spoons and two napkins out, and a larger spoon for serving the porridge.

Then it was time for the taste test. She spooned equal amounts into each bowl. It didn’t have much aroma since it was cold, but the consistency seemed right and the fruit was nicely plumped up. It looked like he had added raisins, or maybe chopped dates or plums.

She first tasted it without adding anything, chewing slowly. The consistency was good- not too thick or too thin, and the fruit- which  _ was _ raisins- had absorbed enough water to be juicy and sweet again. Prince Noir watched her with hopeful eyes.

“It’s good! Well done,” she said. He smiled in relief and dug into his own portion.

“You can make this with any kind of grain, really, just some of them require more or less water, and if you forget to do it the night before, you can boil the grain instead of letting it steep,” she instructed as they ate. “You can also add nuts, honey, favorite spices… it doesn’t have to be sweet every time. But this is a good, simple breakfast that will keep you full long into the morning and doesn’t take much time to prepare. And if you happen to make too much and have some left over, you can use a little oil or fat and grill the rest into little cakes that you can wrap up and carry with you so you don’t waste it.”

The prince listened attentively as she went on, describing variations on the dish. After they’d eaten what he had prepared, Marinette coached him first through simply frying fresh eggs, and then through boiling the rest for easier transport.

“Sometimes- not always, but sometimes- it’s cheaper or easier to buy more eggs than you immediately need,” she explained. “But they can go bad quickly, or get crushed and then you’ve not only lost your eggs, but you’ll have to stop and clean everything they got on. So you boil the ones you’re not going to eat immediately, and then if the shells crack, at least you can still eat the egg.”

“Thank you, Mlle.,” he said, when half the eggs were wrapped up and ready for him to take back with him. “And tomorrow, we’ll start on getting that unicorn water for you!”

Marinette started. “We?”

“Of course! You said you needed help, and I’m not one to go back on my word. Plagg told me the best place to start looking was the Enchanted Forest, so-”

“But I’m not going with you!” she blurted out.

Prince Noir blinked at her. “Nonsense,” he said. “How are you going to know if it’s really unicorn water unless you come with me?”

Marinette raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you would try to cheat me?” she teased. She didn’t believe that for a moment, but couldn’t resist.

“No, no!” he said. “But it’s best to be certain, right? I mean, I’m assuming you need it for something important… unicorn water is a rare and potent spell ingredient- you don’t just use it to clean mirrors! And besides,” he continued, flushing a little, “how am I supposed to lure a unicorn without a fair maiden?”

Marinette’s own face heated at that. “O-oh well…” she faltered. “I-I guess I assumed… maybe you would ask one of the Princesses… after all, I’m sure they would be glad to help, and surely it’s more fitting for one of  _ them _ …” she trailed off as the Prince winced and crossed his arms.

“I could do that... if I wasn’t afraid of raising false hopes,” he said. “It’s traditional for Princes to rescue Princesses from dragons after all, and they might get the wrong idea. So might their dragons, for that matter!”

“Oh. Yes, I suppose that  _ could _ give them the wrong impression,” Marinette said, heart sinking as she realised he didn’t think that would be a problem for  _ her. _ Which, she reminded herself, it wasn’t. She swallowed hard before continuing. “Very well, but I need to ask Tikki if I can go. When did you plan to start, and how long do you think it will take? A few hours, a day…?”

“According to Plagg, it takes at least a few hours just to get to the Enchanted Forest, and that’s assuming we don’t get lost in the Caves of Fire and Night on the way there… so maybe we’d better plan on starting right after breakfast and taking the whole day.” 

“I see,” Marinette said, forcing a smile. She wasn’t thrilled about being in his company for that long, especially not with the possibility of getting lost- but perhaps Tikki would refuse to let her go. “I will ask Tikki when I see her.”

“Excellent. I’ll come by after dinner for your answer. And... if you care for my opinion,” he continued hesitantly, “which I realize you might not… I think you should wear that dress you were wearing earlier. It might not be appropriate for a cooking lesson, but it would definitely help attract a unicorn.”

Then, with a wink and a bow he was gone, leaving her standing there with her mouth hanging open and no idea how to respond.

\----

Tikki, when asked, gave her consent with an amused look at Marinette’s betrayed expression. Marinette had tried to stress that she didn’t  _ have _ to go if Tikki needed her, but the red dragon had waved that away.

“It will be good for you to get away from here for a little while, and it’s smart to get the lay of the land before you decide to escape,” she said. “Besides, now that the others have been promised fire-proof princesses, they’re getting impatient. It will be better to get it done and over with as soon as possible.”

Tikki got up and lumbered toward one of her treasure caves. Marinette had been working on organizing them in her spare time, and at least they were easier to navigate now than they had been, even if things were still in piles instead of placed neatly on shelves. The dragon started rummaging around in a pile of items Marinette hadn’t been able to categorize and pulled out a small wooden box. It looked like a jewelry box, though it was very plain and weatherbeaten, but when Marinette had opened it, all that was in it was a pin lying balanced on a small black pebble. Around the perimeter of the box were carved little lines at regular intervals, with strange characters in the middle of each side of the square. Marinette had played with the pin but, though it spun freely around it’s balance point, it always returned to its previous position. Nor could she remove it. Confused, Marinette had tossed it into the pile of strange and esoteric things she didn’t understand.

“This is a compass that will always point the way to your destination, as long as you keep that firmly in mind,” Tikki said, dropping it into Marinette’s hand. “That’s not it’s only use, though. There’s an additional spell on it that will summon the one thing that you need the most at any given time. I wouldn’t recommend using that unless you really need it, though- it’s a spell that was obviously added on later, and it’s very limited. You can only summon one thing per day, and the object itself will vanish again after five minutes, so you’d better be able to make use of it quickly.”

“But this is amazing!” Marinette said, marvelling at the small treasure she held. “How did you even get something like this? Who thought of it? And… why would you entrust it to me?”

Tikki snorted. “As for the first two, I don’t know. It was here when I became King. For the last… you’re my Chief Cook and Librarian, you’ve performed your duties well, and you’ve given me no reason to think you would lie about what you and Plagg’s princess intend to do tomorrow. If you were like Pollen’s princess it would be a different matter, but you’re not.”

Marinette found herself smiling at her erstwhile captor. “Thank you,” she said, simply. “I will take very good care of this, and return it to you as soon as I can.”

“I know,” Tikki said, smugly. “That’s why I’m letting you borrow it in the first place.”

\----

Adrien straightened his tunic before calling his arrival at the back entrance to the King’s caves. Mlle. Dupain-Cheng had caught him completely off-guard that morning, but he was determined not to make a fool of himself this time. He only hoped the King hadn’t forbidden her to come along. He’d spent part of the day trying to decide who else to ask, just in case- because in all his research he hadn’t come across any stories of young men being able to persuade a unicorn to dip it’s horn in a jar of water- and had reluctantly settled on Princess Mylene. As someone with a knight of her own, she would be the least likely to read into his intentions. But it would be better if Mlle. Dupain-Cheng came herself.

After all, she had a personal stake in the matter, and he wouldn’t have to worry about her panicking and running off or otherwise getting herself into danger he would have to rescue her from. If she wasn’t afraid to scold a dragon, he couldn’t imagine anything else having much effect on her. 

When the girl in question appeared and invited him in, he wasn’t quite sure how to react. She was still wearing the plain blue robes she’d donned for their cooking lesson, and he couldn’t understand why that disappointed him. However, she offered him a hot cup of tea, which he accepted, and told him the good news.

She also pulled a small wooden box out of a fold of her robe and showed it to him, saying that Tikki was allowing her to borrow it. 

“A compass?” Adrien frowned a little. “I’m not sure how useful that will be- from everything I’ve heard, the Enchanted Forest is… tricky. Things don’t always stay where they’re supposed to be.”

Mlle. Dupain-Cheng gave him a skeptical look, and he shrugged. “It’s not called the Enchanted Forest for nothing, and it’s ruler is said to be a powerful sorcerer. Not evil- at least, I’ve never read of one of its Kings being evil- but very powerful.”

She shrugged herself at that. “I don’t know about that, but this compass isn’t an ordinary compass- it’s enchanted, too.”

She explained the compass’ properties and Adrien found himself feeling much more optimistic about the chances of them completing this quest relatively quickly. Relatively, because however right their path, there were bound to be obstacles and complications along the way.

“That will be  _ very _ useful!” he exclaimed. “We won’t have to worry about getting lost, and I bet it will point us in the direction of a unicorn when we get to the Enchanted Forest, too.”

“I hope so,” she smiled. “Now all we have to decide is how to carry all the water I need.”

They discussed a few methods before deciding a well-padded picnic basket would be the best way. They made plans for Adrien to come early again, and they would eat breakfast together before they left. Adrien had to admit he was looking forward to it, his enthusiasm sparking to life at the very thought of it. Living with dragons had begun to lose that edge of danger, but here was something new. His first quest!

He fell asleep that night with a genuine smile on his face.

\----

Marinette was up and dressed before Prince Noir arrived in the morning. She had debated on whether to take his advice on the dress she should wear, but… he was right. If she was going to attract a unicorn, she had to dress the part. So she put on the lovely cherry blossom dress from the previous day and tried not to delight too much in the floating silks. She decided to go all out for her role and arranged her hair in a more elaborate style than she normally bothered with. When her conscience accused her of attempting to catch Prince Noir’s eye again, she squashed it with the ruthless logic that unicorns were famously attracted to lovely maidens, so looking like her ordinary self could only harm her ultimate goal, thus forcing her to spend  _ more _ time in the prince’s company.

And then, when the Prince did arrive, he smiled at her and made normal conversation and appeared to be entirely unaffected, so that was another thing she could use to convince herself that it didn’t matter what she wore or how she did her hair. In his eyes she could only be, at most, a friend.

They ate a hasty breakfast and left for the entrance to the Caves of Fire and Night. Tikki went with them to let them in, since none but a dragon could open the gate barring the entrance. Marinette had frowned over that a little- according to Queen Cimorene’s little book, at one point she had known the password and spell that opened the gates- but it had been two hundred years since then, and probably the customs had changed.

Tikki let them in and told them she would have one of the junior dragons come and wait to let them out at nightfall.

“I understand that quests can often be derailed, but if you’re not back by noon tomorrow, you can expect me to be extremely displeased with you, young man,” Tikki almost growled at the Prince. “If you run into difficulties there is no earthly reason for you  _ not _ to come back and try again another day, after all.”

Marinette watched the prince bow very low. “I understand, your highness. I’ll take the greatest care of your Chief Cook and Librarian, and promise to return her to you very soon.”

“See that you do, then,” was her parting remark, with one of the more disconcerting smiles Marinette had ever seen her produce. 

For herself, Marinette was both oddly flattered, and indignant. She was by no means helpless- Sabine Cheng had been one of the top fighters in her village when it came to repelling bandits and raiders, and she’d passed her knowledge along to her daughter.

Marinette had found a very nice hardwood staff as part of a ceremonial armor set and brought that along. It would serve as a walking stick as well as a weapon. The only reason she’d decided to ask for the prince’s help was because of the difficulty in not knowing her way around, and not thinking she could get enough time off to go hunting unicorns herself. Tikki letting her go on this quest had caught her very much by surprise.

“I can take care of myself, you know,” she said in a low voice that nevertheless echoed in the dark tunnel that was the entrance to the Caves of Fire and Night. She picked up one handle of the picnic basket and he picked up the other, and so they started on their way. She had hung the lantern on the end of her staff, but though it illuminated the area immediately around them, the light didn’t extend very far.

“Oh?” 

Was it her imagination, or was that surprise and delight in his tone?

“Yes. This staff isn’t just for walking.”

“Really? I would be most interested to see your skill, Mlle. I’ve been trying to think of who I could possibly spar with here…”

“What is that you keep calling me?” she asked. The strange term didn’t bother her, but she was curious, and they had several hours of walking ahead of them.

“Mademoiselle? It’s just a respectful term for unmarried ladies. Why?”

“I just wondered. It’s not something I’ve ever heard before. The languages and customs are very different here. And I think there must be some kind of spell on these caves- or possibly it’s a spell just applied to us. I can understand everyone perfectly well, but… sometimes it seems that the shapes their mouths make don’t fit with the sounds I’m hearing. And then sometimes there are terms I can’t identify at all, like that one.”

“Really?” Now he sounded very intrigued. “I hadn’t noticed that. But you may be right- certainly I know that the Kingdoms around Agrestia have different internal languages, though we still trade with each other well enough.”

“Agrestia- is that where you are from? What is it like there?”

There was a pregnant pause, and the prince looked away from her. “I didn’t mean to say that. Please forget it.” His tone was tense, as if he expected her to refuse.

“I know everyone says that servants are terrible gossips, your highness,” she said, teasing, “but I am not that kind of servant. Your secret is safe with me for as long as you want it to be.”

He flashed her a grateful smile. “It’s just that… well, I ran away. And I have no doubt that my father will try to force me back, even though there’s another perfectly good heir. The fewer people who know my true name or where I came from, the less likely it is that he will find me.”

Marinette’s smile faltered. “You don’t want to go home? I know you said you wanted to go on quests, but since that’s pretty normal for Princes, I assumed that, eventually…” She bit her lip and looked away. “I’m sorry, it’s not my place to pry. It’s only that I can’t imagine not wanting to go home.”

“Well, perhaps your home was happier than mine,” he said after a moment. With an attempt at cheerfulness, he asked, “What was it like? Please- enlighten the entitled and ignorant nobleman to the daily joys and trials of being a seamstress?”

That broke the mood and Marinette laughed and told him- all about growing up in the bakery, and how she had eventually discovered she enjoyed sewing enough to pursue it as a profession. Every time she trailed off, worried she was rambling on too much, he would ask a question that proved he’d been paying attention after all. 

They went through several caves with various and wondrous properties- walls embedded with glowing crystal, rusty looking rocks that seemed to pull at the metal things they carried with them, and even a cave with a hole in the top that let in sunlight and housed an enormous twisting tree. The tree seemed to glow in the sunlight, and they each agreed not to go too near, since it gave off a decided aura of magic. 

Marinette’s magical compass steered them true, even when it seemed that the exit of a particular cave seemed to both of them to lie in a different direction than the one the compass indicated. In each case, they decided to follow the compass, and found the exit right in front of them when they reached the other side. Fortunately, they didn’t experience any periods of darkness as they walked, because Marinette wasn’t sure what the effect of lingering in any of the caves would have been. She didn’t think either of them would have wanted to continue walking when neither of them could see. That was a perfect way to get lost, or accidentally wander off the edge of a chasm.

For Marinette the time passed quickly. Whenever the wonders of the caves weren’t enough to distract them, they exchanged stories of their respective homes, and Marinette found herself pitying the young Prince Noir. It was obvious now that that wasn’t his true name, but she didn’t ask what it was.

Soon they reached the true exit. The cave mouth looked out onto the scene of a small meadow that quickly vanished into a forest of impossibly large and tall trees. Though there was grass and flowers in the clearing, under the trees the grass faded into vibrant green moss.

They had reached the Enchanted Forest. Now, if they could only find what they needed without ending up enchanted themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are curious about what exactly Marinette's pretty dress looked like, here is a handy diagram that, I admit, I do not know if it is one hundred percent accurate, but is what I based the description off of. It's not the same colors, but you can imagine those for yourself. ;)
> 
> [here](https://images.app.goo.gl/gVf25R3iGcqrs39a7)


	11. In Which Marinette gets a haircut, and there is impromptu dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The quest for Unicorn Water begins!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like the chapter titles, because it's like a mini summary, but then I always struggle with what else to put in the summary box after I've come up with the title, because... well, obvious reasons really.

Marinette took the lantern down and extinguished it- there was no point in wasting oil- and held the compass tightly, thinking hard about the unicorn they needed to find. The needle wavered a little before pointing slightly to the right of straight ahead. 

“Are you ready?” she asked, looking at the prince.

He checked that the sword belted on his hip was loose in the scabbard, then nodded. 

“I would say ladies first, but since I’m here for protection- not to mention the fact we’re carrying a picnic basket between us,” he shrugged and gave her a wry grin, “I suppose we’ll just have to go forth together!”

So they walked together out of the sunshine of the meadow into the green gloom under the trees. Immediately she felt a change. The forest had a  _ presence, _ something like a hushful  _ watching _ that made her want to creep and hide, making as little noise as possible as they walked along. Their footsteps made no noise on the springy moss, but she felt like that was a good thing.

“We need to be careful while we’re here,” Prince Noir said, in a much more subdued tone. “It’s best not to step on flowers or sit on convenient rocks, because those could turn out to be enchanted people. Likewise, it’s not wise to try and eat anything we come across unless we can somehow determine that it’s not going to turn us into anything.”

Marinette just nodded. Then, feeling like she had to step up and be brave enough to speak now that he had, she said, “I packed enough food for a good lunch and supper, and one of my jars is full of mint-water.”

“Thank you,” the Prince said, smiling at her. “I should have thought of that myself, but I confess I was too eager to start to think of food. That’s something I’ll have to work on.”

“Two or three times going hungry while on quest should cure you of that, Prince Noir,” Marinette replied. It was strange, but the more they talked, the less threatening the trees felt. Now she was even able to hear the rustle of animals further into the forest, though nothing close by. Either they were scaring the wildlife into stillness, or the animals around them were extremely quiet. Marinette had not grown up in a forest or even a country village- but she was familiar with all the little sounds that came with keeping chickens and a goat in the yard behind the bakery, so these noises didn’t alarm her. She checked her compass and made sure they were still heading in the right direction. 

They walked for about an hour, sometimes talking, sometimes silent. The forest had many wonders to show them. At one point they skirted the edge of what looked like a hedge maze, the precisely trimmed branches of the outer wall thick and impenetrable. When they passed an opening, they shared a look and walked right on by, despite the faint music and aroma of delectable foods emanating from it.

That did put them in mind of lunch, though. When they happened upon a meadow filled with flowers that were every color of the rainbow, they paused.

“I wonder if it would be safe to stop and eat here,” the Prince said.

“Wondering gets you nothing,” a chirping voice from overhead said, “but asking might.”

Marinette quickly looked up and spotted a bright red bird with an upstanding crest and a black markings around the eyes that almost made it look angry.

“Hello,” said the Prince. “Did you in fact speak to us, or was that a passing comment not meant for our ears? If it was, I apologize for overhearing.”

Marinette raised her eyebrows at him, and he shrugged when he met her gaze and smiled. The bird hopped down to a lower branch.

“Well, well… a polite pair of adventurers! Yes, I was talking to you.”

“Then, would you be so kind as to inform us whether the flowers in this meadow are at all enchanted? We mean no harm to anyone or anything, and would like to avoid being harmed ourselves.”

“That sword on your hip says otherwise,” the bird observed.

“The sword is a precaution, no more,” the Prince assured the bird. “Though we mean no harm, part of making sure no harm comes to me or my companion means being prepared to defend ourselves.”

The bird cocked it’s head to look both of them over. “I suppose that makes sense. Anyway, what will you do for me if I answer your question?”

“What would you like us to do?” Marinette said, entering the conversation. After all, it wasn’t just the Prince who wanted to know. Besides, it wasn’t like she was committing them to anything just yet.

“My nest needs repairing,” the bird said. “The last storm really did a number on it, and my chicks aren’t fledged yet!”

Marinette thought for a moment. She picked up the dangling end of the pink cord that tied around her waist.“We can’t rebuild your nest, but maybe we could offer you some materials to rebuild it with. Will this do? The fibers are long and strong, and I could unravel it for you while we eat.” 

The bird considered the offer, but then turned it’s back to them. “No. It’s too bright and my nest needs to stay hidden.” It looked over it’s back at her. “Your hair, on the other hand…”

“My hair?” Marinette frowned, touching the elegant arrangement. Prince Noir frowned too, but she looked away before he could object. “H-how much would you need?”

The bird hopped down to another lower branch and balanced there, flirting it’s tail feathers as it leaned down to eye it. “Not much, not much. You look like you have plenty, so… say six inches off the bottom?”

Marinette gulped. That would leave her with just past shoulder length hair- hardly enough to braid, much less wind into an elegant style with hairsticks and ornaments. But… there were baby birds to consider, not to mention avoiding getting herself and the Prince enchanted. She bit her lip.

“Alright,” she said softly. She looked at the Prince and, though he still looked concerned, he didn’t say anything when she nodded decisively. They lowered the picnic basket to the ground. 

Marinette pulled out the pins and the one hairstick she had used, letting the heavy coiled mass thump down on her back. Only then did she realize she didn’t have anything to cut it with. She looked to the Prince.

“Could you use your sword on my hair, please?” 

“I can…,” he trailed off, and then asked in a lower voice, “Are you sure about this, Mlle.? You shouldn’t have to give up something so personal.”

Marinette smiled, accepting the price of the information in her heart. “It’s just hair. It will grow back.”

“Too right!” the bird chirped, fluttering its wings.

“If you’re sure.”

He unsheathed the blade, which did look nicely polished and sharp in the sunlight, and came around behind her. Her hair had mostly stayed coiled and was therefore easy for him to gather in one hand. Marinette suppressed a shiver as she felt the faint brush of his fingers between her shoulder blades.

“Stand still, please,” the Prince said quietly. “A sword isn’t the best tool for this, and I don’t wish to accidentally cut anything but your hair.”

Marinette held still and he carefully sliced through the coil. When it was done, she expected him to take the ends straight to the bird, but instead he came around in front and offered them to her with a solemn expression.

“It is your sacrifice, it’s only fitting for you to offer it,” he said, still in that same low tone. She met his eyes, which in the light of the meadow seemed as green as the ever-present moss, and took the bundle from him. Then she moved toward the bird on the branch, holding up her open palm with the hair draped across it. 

The bird hopped a bit before flying down. It carefully picked up her hair with one claw, then flew back up to the lowest branch.

“Now will you please tell us where we can safely sit down to eat our meal?” she said.

“Oh, this meadow is safe for humans,” the bird chirped cheerily. “The flowers won’t hurt you, they just smell nice. Thank you for the hair!”

And with that, it spread its wings and flew away. Marinette watched it go, all too aware of her unbound hair now whisping about her face. She pushed it back behind her ears and turned around.

“Well,” she said, shrugging but smiling. “At least we know it’s safe to eat here.”

But the Prince crossed his arms. “It still seems too high a price to me,” he muttered. Then, apparently sensing that she didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, he continued in a lighter tone. “But you look beautiful with your hair down, and no doubt that bird's nest will be the envy of all the other birds! Shall we?”

He bent to pick up one side of the picnic basket, and Marinette hurried to pick up the other, grateful for the distraction from her sudden flush. They waded through the multicolored flowers until they reached the top of a small rise and decided to stop there. 

As they settled the picnic basket among them, Marinette couldn’t help thinking that the bird had been right. The flowers did indeed smell nice- which was to say that, while they didn’t smell  _ floral _ , their scents were still pleasant. Every color had a different smell. The blue ones had a crisp, almost cold sort of scent that reminded Marinette of the air in wintertime, when it was snowing. The red ones smelled of a cozy wood fire, the yellow of hot buttered bread. The green had a scent that was difficult to place, though it was definitely fruity, and the purple flowers smelled so intoxicating that Marinette felt lightheaded after one cautious sniff. Curiously, there were no pink or white flowers among the throng. However, the ones there were pleasant enough. 

Marinette got out their lunches- steamed buns with meat and vegetable filling, with jam cookies for dessert- and the bottle of lemonade. They settled amicably enough and ate, enjoying the meadow. Marinette did notice the Prince casting glances her way from time to time, but she chose to ignore them, watching as small, brightly colored insects hovered over the flowers and flew to and fro. Thankfully, the flowers various scents seemed to keep biting, stinging, or otherwise annoying insects away from their picnic. And it was nice to sit down. It had been a while since Marinette had done quite so much walking. She was somewhat thankful that the traditional way to lure a unicorn was for the maiden to sit in one spot and let the unicorn come to her. 

“We’re going to have to do something about your hair,” the Prince said, after finishing his buns and half of the cookies. He had eaten quickly, but carefully, making sure to brush off any crumbs as soon as they dropped onto his clothes, and frequently wiping his fingers and mouth on a napkin. “It’s beautiful as it is, but it doesn’t fit with your dress anymore.”

Marinette regarded him thoughtfully. There was a clump of purple flowers very close to his head- it was possible they were affecting his judgement. That said, she wasn’t used to having her hair loose, yet she wasn’t sure how to pin it up now that it was so short. She’d barely managed the previous style as it was. She thought for a moment, then did her best to part her hair from the crown to the nape of her neck, pulling the strands aside into two little bunches, one on either side. If she had string or ribbon, she might have been able to coil the bunches and secure them, but she didn’t have enough pins to do that without the aid of a ribbon or string. Not to mention that she didn’t have a hairbrush or comb with her.

She was so preoccupied with trying to arrange her hair that it came as a surprise when she felt his hands on hers. Somehow he’d gotten behind her without her noticing. He gently tugged her hair out of her grip and started combing through it with his own fingers.

“What are you doing?” she asked. She thought about being alarmed or even angry, but to be honest, it felt good and she didn’t particularly want him to stop. 

“I’m trying something,” was all he said. Once most of the tangles were gone, he lightly gathered some hair at one of her temples and started braiding it. It didn’t take long for him to get to the end of the braid, and he brought the end around in front of her face. “Hold, please.”

Bemused, Marinette accepted the braid and held it, only to feel him gather more hair at the other temple and begin braiding it. Next he asked for pins, and before she knew it, the two braids were joined at the back of her head, mostly confining the rest of her hair. She thought he surely would have been done then, but instead he started plucking flowers and inserting them into the weave of the braids as decoration. Finally, after what felt like millions of pokes from the stiff flower stems, he was finished. Sliding around in front of her, he gently grasped her chin and lifted it, turning her head from side to side to judge the effect. Then he smiled that heart-stopping smile of his and said, “There! Much better. Pretty as a picture!”

Marinette dropped her eyes, not able to meet his gaze without flushing. Perhaps it was her imagination, but it seemed his thumb stroked her cheek just a little before he finally let go. Marinette took a last drink of lemonade and cleared her throat.

“Thank you, your highness. I suppose we should pack up and keep going then.”

“Yes, I suppose,” the Prince said reluctantly. “This is a very pleasant place, though. I’d like to come back some day.”

“Don’t things move around in the forest, though?” Marinette said, as a way to distract herself from unbidden images of future picnics together. “So you probably wouldn’t be able to find this meadow again, even if you tried to.”

The Prince looked around one more time before sighing, shaking out his napkin and the cloth that had been wrapped around the buns, and stowing them back in the basket. Marinette returned the half-empty jar of lemonade, and then they were ready to go, leaving only a slightly squashed patch of flowers behind them.

For a while they walked on in silence, Marinette frequently checking her compass as a way to distract herself from thoughts she really shouldn’t be having. However, there was one thing that puzzled her.

“How did you learn to braid hair, Prince Noir?” she asked as casually as she could. He looked at her in surprise.

“Oh, I wasn’t allowed to actually control my own horse for the first year I was learning to ride. So I braided it’s hair to keep my hands busy whenever my riding instructor and a groom would take me out into the countryside.”

That made Marinette frown. “But, isn’t the point of riding lessons to learn how to control your horse so it doesn’t run away with you?”

“It is. But my riding instructor said that getting comfortable on a horse and learning how to sit properly was more important than handling the reins.” He scrunched up his face as if smelling something bad. “Looking back, that was right around the time I first told my father I wanted to go questing when I was older. I suppose he probably ordered the riding instructor and grooms to keep a close eye on me so I didn’t go racing off on my own.”

Marinette bit her tongue. She longed to say something about his father’s obvious lack of experience in raising children, but it wasn’t her place. She only kept her mouth shut by sheer effort of will, though.

\----

Adrien didn’t know what had come over him. He’d never meant to say anything revealing about himself, and yet he’d already told this unassuming girl where he came from and babbled to her about his relationship with his father!

But she was so easy to talk to… he’d never met anyone like her before. He finally decided that it was because they were both out of their proper spheres. Certainly, while he’d always appreciated the castle servants at home, and treated them with respect, he never would have really confided in one the way he was doing with her. Not after he’d outgrown his childhood, anyway.

But for the moment, he finally decided to push aside any niggling concerns in favor of keeping watch for possible unicorns. After all, she had already assured him she would keep his secrets, so the logical course was to trust her unless and until she proved unworthy of that trust.

A slight tug backward on the picnic basket made him look around. Mlle. Dupain-Cheng was frowning down at her compass.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s just… spinning,” she said, sounding confused. “No, wait, it’s slowing down… and now it’s pointing behind us?”

“Are you sure you’re still concentrating on unicorns?”

She shot him an unimpressed look. “Yes, I’m still concentrating on unicorns.”

“Then... maybe the forest shifted, and now the closest unicorn is actually behind us,” Adrien said with a shrug. She sighed. 

“Well, the only thing to do is go look, I guess.”

They turned around and continued walking. When they didn’t reach the same meadow they had picnicked in after a while, Adrien patted himself on the back for being right. However, it wasn’t long before he was peering alertly into the shadows under the trees. The sense of being watched had increased again. 

Then he heard it- a long whistle that rose sharply in pitch at the very end, coming from his right. An answering whistle came from the trees beyond Mlle. Dupain-Cheng. 

He looked at her, she looked at him. They walked a little faster.

All of a sudden a quick drumbeat started up and there was the sudden rustle of leaves overhead. Adrien looked up just in time to see a black shoe disappear into the branches of a tree. The drumbeat stopped, but another whistle sounded.

The whistles came faster and closer, joined by constant rustling of the undergrowth and the leaves above them. Adrien and Mlle. Dupain-Cheng kept walking, the unspoken hope of outdistancing whatever this was hanging in the air between them, but they turned their backs to each other and moved in a slower, side-stepping gait, so as to keep a better eye on their surroundings. He kept one hand constantly on the hilt of his sword, and hoped she really did know how to use that staff of hers.

All of a sudden a small, green-clad figure leaped out in front of them, spun twice on black-shoed toes, and dived back into the undergrowth. Adrien stopped, listening to the rolling drumbeat that had started up again.

“Prince Noir?” he heard Mlle. Dupain-Cheng ask quietly. He was glad to hear only wariness in her tone- not fear.

“I think it was an elf,” he said.

“What do you think is going on?”

“I… have no idea.”

“Should we try to find a way around?”

“I think it might be too late for that,” Adrien answered, as the drumbeat stopped, only for the sound of snapping fingers to replace it. The snapping was a steady rhythm that he couldn’t help but feel was slightly threatening.

“Well… I guess we should keep going then.”

A high-pitched flute started playing a meandering tune that, combined with the snapping fingers, and intermittent drumbeats sounded just as threatening as everything else.

“Mlle. Dupain-Cheng,” he said in a low voice as they crept on.

“Oh just call me Marinette, it’s faster,” she interrupted. Adrien flushed a little, his heartbeat picking up even more.

“I think we should… move rhythmically,” he said after getting a hold of himself.

“What?”

“Listen... Doesn’t the music make you want to dance?”

_ “Dance?” _

“Y-yes,” Adrien said, right as three elves came up from behind them, all of them moving to the flute and the drums in a kind of gliding strut. Another three popped up in front of them, forcing them to jerk to a stop. The one in the middle fixed them with a black-eyed stare and a mocking grin, then slid to the side and ushered them on with an elaborate bow.

They shared a look again before moving hesitantly forward again. Adrien wished they weren’t carrying the picnic basket, but they couldn’t dump it and run- they needed the water jars for when they finally found a unicorn.

Once they were past the elves, Adrien glanced back and saw that the whole group of them was following them closely, snapping the fingers of one hand while performing complicated steps.

“Marinette,” he said, just loud enough to hear over the accompanying flute and drums. “I  _ really _ think we should dance. Circle left on the beat- I’ll do the same… now.”

He began circling to the left, keeping his steps in time with the music. Marinette did the same- Adrien found he had to moderate the size of his own steps to match her shorter ones. They began almost a waltz, circling around each other, occasionally switching hands on the picnic basket (that was easier for him than for her, since she was still carrying her staff) to perform a flourish with their arms. 

As they continued their dancing walk the tone of the music lightened, until it was more festive than threatening. The elves stopped snapping their fingers. Adrien began to hear bells and tambourines along with the drums, and the flute was joined by fiddles. Soon it felt like they were dancing through a festival instead of a forest- only the celebrants were all hidden by the trees.

They both added some skips and hops to their dance, eyes gleaming at each other over the picnic basket, and Adrien couldn’t suppress a smile. He marveled at how in sync they were with each other, even with the music to help regulate their movements. 

Before they knew it, they were entering a clearing ringed around with several hundred elves, all wearing green suits and black shoes (Adrien could see very little difference between them, but he knew from his reading that elves didn’t care much about gendered clothing)- and there was no way through them. Before Adrien had time to do more than wonder what they were supposed to do now, the music stopped. They came to a stop, both breathing a little heavily, but not out of breath.

One of the elves came forward and bowed. “Welcome to the domain of the Nightwing Shadowmusic Elves. Your participation in our escort ritual is appreciated. May I ask what business you have here?” he said, eyeing the picnic basket.

“Thank you for your kind welcome, and for the escort,” Adrien said politely, then glanced at Marinette to see if she wanted to explain their errand or if she wanted him to.

“We’re searching for a unicorn,” Marinette said, speaking for both of them. “Only to get some unicorn water, which I need for a spell,” she hurried to add when a susurrus of whispers swept through the crowd. “I promise, we mean no harm to the unicorn!”

“What kind of spell,” the elf asked suspiciously.

“A fire-proofing spell, which your old Queen Cimorene wrote down in a journal and left with the dragons in the Mountains of Morning.”

Adrien watched as something like a sigh ran through the crowd.

“Queen Cimorene was one of our more enterprising queens, it’s true,” the spokes-elf said. “I can believe she left something like that behind for other dragon’s princesses to find. That does not, however, explain your male companion. Are you sure you’re not just running away together?”

Adrien grinned. “Considering that King Tikki threatened me with her extreme displeasure if I didn’t bring her Chief Cook and Librarian back before noon tomorrow, no, we are not running away together. Besides, I’m Queen Plagg’s ‘Princess’ myself, so I also have duties to return to.”

The elf’s eyebrows rose very high at that, but then he bowed.

“Very well. Would you like information on the whereabouts of any unicorns in our territory?” he asked, his black eyes glinting with anticipation. 

But Adrien was wary- the denizens of the Enchanted Forest almost never gave anything away for free, and if they did you a service, there was never any telling what they would demand in return. He was grateful that these elves at least did not seem disposed to attack them, but he wanted to avoid any tasks that would eat up the rest of their time here without gaining them what they wanted. They’d been lucky with the bird earlier, and he didn’t want to push that luck.

“Thank you for the offer, but no. We have a plan for finding a unicorn on our own, and we wouldn’t want to inconvenience anyone.”

The elf allowed a small smile to grace his face. “Someone has taught you well, young prince. Yet I would only have asked that you take along a jar for us- unicorn water is difficult for us to obtain on our own.”

Adrien looked at Marinette who shrugged. “We have room in the basket,” she said. “And if they know where a unicorn actually is, it will save us time.”

That was true. Much as he had been enjoying this small adventure, he didn’t want to run any risk of missing their deadline, nor did he relish spending an unprotected night in the forest. 

“Very well, for the price of a jar- which you will provide- of unicorn water for you to keep, we would be glad to accept help in finding a unicorn speedily.” Adrien smiled as he spoke, but kept watch for any shifts of body language or expression that might indicate the elves had something else in store for them. But there was nothing- just pleased smiles and a vague hum of approval.

The spokes-elf pointed to three other elves in the crowd, who stepped forward and bowed.

“These three will guide you to the place the unicorn has been seen the most.”

“Thank you,” Marinette said to the three, who did not give their names. Then again, neither Adrien nor Marinette had given the elves their own. Names, especially in the Enchanted Forest, had power.

“Come,” said one of the three, and all the elves parted to allow them through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to the readers who can figure out what my inspiration was for the elves escort ritual. ;)


End file.
